The Great Cahill Race
by Paite-chan
Summary: What do you get when you mix a Madrigal threat, the Cahills, and the Amazing Race together? Loads of comedy, lots of mayhem, and tons of CHAOS!
1. Prologue: The Madrigal Threat

Amy's life, ever since Grace's death, had _never_ been normal. In fact, it was as far from _normal_ as it could get.

When Grace died, she found herself caught in some kind of race—a race to find the _39 Clues_, said to change the course of civilization as she knew it. She began to learn that she was related to the great people in the history of the world—Napoleon Bonaparte, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Neil Armstrong and more—learning about the history of her family in the process. She'd traveled all across the world with her other relatives at her back, often fearing for the lives of her and her brother's. Most of all, she experienced many things she never thought she'd experience—how it felt to be betrayed, how it felt to solve a problem, how it felt to trust no one. Yes, life had indeed turned complicated after Grace died.

But the weirdest of all was what was happening at the moment—with William McIntyre contacting them recently, saying something about an "_urgent meeting_" that needed to be "_attended to at once_."

She couldn't understand that. She couldn't understand that as much as she couldn't understand why they had to travel back to Korea to Uncle Alistair's house.

"It's a trap, I tell you!" Dan chided, using dramatic gestures for articulation. "They just _want_ us to go back to Korea so that they could finish us once and for all!"

"Shut up, Dan!" Amy scolded, looking back at the caller ID in Nellie's cell phone. "I'm pretty sure that it was Mr. McIntyre. We all heard his voice, and he really sounded nervous when he called us."

"Exactly!" Dan cried. "It's all part of the plan!"

Amy gave him another condescending look, the ones Dan always felt instigated his "little brother" role. He always disliked those looks since it always made him feel small and since it always made Amy look bossy.

When they finally arrived at Alistair Oh's mansion, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just as they had left it—cheery, pristine, and with an aura that could make you smile. Entering the gates, there had been no dart guns. No big dogs out to kill them. No nothing. It was as if all the events that had occurred beforehand had been one big joke.

Their security was then confirmed as they saw the familiar figure of Mr. McIntyre coming out of the doors. His face was quite flustered, as if something outrageously bad had occurred. Then again, it _was_ Mr. McIntyre after all—the man who told them to trust no one, and who seemed to do a _good job_ following that motto. He signaled the three to come inside hurriedly as if he was being watched by some other life form. Nellie stretched her arms in response.

"Well, what're we waiting for? Let's go!" she said enthusiastically, sprinting towards the mansion. Amy sighed. Nellie just _loved_ the luxurious life.

As they entered the mansion (it had been all-too familiar for them), William McIntyre then led them to the Banquet hall, still looking nervous. "Good Grief! I was rather afraid that you wouldn't make it… was your trip alright? Did anybody ambush you?"

"Uh, no." Dan replied, looking at the man weirdly. He was acting stranger than usual.

Mr. McIntyre then sighed in relief, dabbing a sweat drop on his head with a white handkerchief. "That's good. That's very, _very_ good… at least the three of you are safe. I'm afraid that times like these are quite… _dangerous_ for the Cahill family." Looking around suspiciously, the man leaned forward secretively. "Are you sure you didn't encounter any—_suspicious_ activity?"

"N-No, sir." Amy stammered, a bit unnerved by Mr. McIntyre's disposition. Regaining her composure, she turned to him to speak. "So, Mr. McIntyre, what _is_ the emergency?"

Yet before Mr. McIntyre could respond, they had already reached the banquet hall. A voice from the hall suddenly piped up, sounding cheerful and relieved at the same time. To say the least, Dan and Amy's heart skipped a beat at the sound of that voice— the sound of that one person they had previously thought _dead_.

"Children!"

"Uncle Alistair!" Amy cried as the man in the cherry-red suit came up to them. The two then hugged for the longest time, until Dan came up to them.

"Hey, though you kinda ditched us, I guess we could forgive you a bit," Dan spoke right before he hugged the old man as well. Nellie blew her nose on Mr. McIntyre's white handkerchief, a gesture which he, to say the least, didn't appreciate one bit. "Aww! Isn't that touching?"

Mr. McIntyre cringed at his now-soiled handkerchief. "Yes, indeed it is."

"How did you escape?" inquired Dan, eyes gleaming in curiosity. Alistair chuckled at this, ruffling his hair. "Well, it's quite a convoluted story, but we must settle that for later. Right now, we have to listen." He then faced the banquet hall, and the two siblings gasped in shock at what they saw.

It seemed as if Alistair had not been the only other one who had been invited to the meeting—to their dismay, there sat Irina Spasky, Jonah Wizard and his father, the Holts and—most unfortunately—the Kabras. Amy's stomach churned at the sight of them, deciding to look away. Alistair seemed to have caught her sense of distress.

"It will be alright," he coaxed. "It _is_ a family meeting, after all… and you and Dan could sit next to me. You won't have to see them." Amy then smiled at the man, and the four resumed to their seats. Nellie, just as she was about to sit, made a last-minute decision to go to the kitchen.

"I mean, seriously—the food is _awesome_ here!" she later explained, proceeding to the pantry.

When all the competitors were seated, William McIntyre then went towards the front podium and cleared his throat, getting a device from his pocket that looked like a remote control. Pressing a button, a screen came down from the ceiling; not without Dan looking at it in awe. Amy gave him a scolding look, knowing exactly what crazy idea was brewing in his mind at the moment.

"You just _love_ to ruin the fun, don't you?" he protested, folding his arms. It was then when William McIntyre began to speak.

"As you may know, I have arranged to have an urgent meeting this day in order to inform you of something... rather _grave_." he spoke, looking a bit nervous. "As of then, all of you were on your respective ways towards the next clue."

"Yeah, until _you_ interfered," spat Eisenhower Holt, who was then shushed by his wife, Mary-Todd.

Mr. McIntyre cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Well," a map flashed from the screen. "As I was saying, all of you were on your respective ways towards the next clue. You have been going around the world searching for all the clues, if I'm not mistaken." A flash of red dots appeared on the map, showing the areas the others have traveled. "Some of you were just about on your way before I had intercepted you."

"Indeed," spoke Ian Kabra, who was leaning on his seat slightly. "Natalie and I were on our way to _Kyrgyzstan_ before that fateful call."

Amy noticed the stress he put on the word "Kyrgyzstan". Taking a quick glance at him, she noticed that he was staring at her; causing bile to rise up in her stomach. She looked away again in repulsion—not withstanding his gaze.

The man continued. "As you may know, only the Cahill family knows about this race of ours. But unfortunately," the man straightened up his collar, as if he was about to announce some dubious circumstance was at hand. Amy noticed that the others seemed to pale a bit. "Someone, or some _persons_, have been monitoring our every movements as we speak."

"What do you mean, good sir?" came the aghast voice of Uncle Alistair.

The man paled, as if he was about to reveal something that would shake the core of the earth. "What I mean is, Mr. Oh, somebody has been monitoring our movements—even to the point of chronicling them to the general public."

Reactions were heard about the room. Mr. McIntyre then stepped forward, grabbing something he had put on the table. Holding it up, it was revealed to be… a _book_.

"This, dear members of the Cahill family, has been released to the public internationally," He held up a blue book, tossing it to Amy. Barely catching it, she examined the cover with an analytical eye. An array of bones exploded in full graphics, with the title of the book written smack-dab in the middle in big, bold letters.

"The 39 Clues," she whispered, and everybody inched towards her. They all wanted to know what the big deal was. Turning the pages, Amy read a bit of the book out loud, looking at everyone in surprise. They all seemed to share the same sentiment.

"It's…" Dan spoke. "_Exactly how it happened._"

"May I see it?" came a smooth voice behind Amy, a hand landing on her shoulder. She stiffened at the sound of the voice, knowing who it belonged to. Without looking at him, she nonchalantly passed the book to Ian Kabra, who began to read another excerpt. Uncle Alistair led out a loud "_Hah!_"

"I remember that time in the airport! Right down to the fist hurtling towards my face!" spoke Alistair, casting a quick glance at the Holts. Eisenhower narrowed his eyes at him, cracking his knuckles.

"What were you saying, E-_kat?_"

"There's more," came the choked voice of William McIntyre. He was undeniably uncomfortable about the subject, noting the way he handed the green book to Dan, who read yet another excerpt. "Dang, they even got the _monks_ part right!" he shuddered. "I will never look at monks the same way ever again." Mr. McIntyre then handed Amy the red book, with his face as pale as a corpse's. She scanned it instantly.

"Hey, this one's about what happened in…" reading yet another line, before her face fell and her voice became inaudible. "_T-Tokyo_."

Although she wasn't looking at him, she knew that he was looking at her.

"How in the world would they get _this_ much accurate?" came the strangled voice of Irina Spasky. "I have never seen such _inconspicuous_ spying in all my years of living!" Then, adding silently, "And _I_ was a spy myself."

Mr. McIntyre pulled at his collar again, as if he was about to faint. "Which is precisely why I have called this meeting. I have had many theories about this matter, and the most plausible being—" the man paled. "That a Cahill is not the culprit. I believe that this is the work of the…"

Everyone paled.

"_Madrigals._"

The room suddenly turned silent.

"But don't despair!" he spoke quickly. "My subordinates and I have thought of a foolproof plan as to keep them off track. If we are to keep our hunt secret, we must first try to throw the enemy off-track. That is why I am proposing a new type of race."

"Another type of race, Mr. McIntyre?" came the silky voice of Natalie Kabra. Mr. McIntyre nodded.

"Yes. I assume that all of you have heard of 'The Amazing Race'?"

All Cahills present looked at each other quizzically.

"Uh… yeah," came Amy's timid voice. She couldn't really understand what was happening, yet something about the mention of The Amazing Race seemed to make sense. "So… is the race you're proposing—something like that?"

"Correct," the man spoke, adjusting his glasses. "Yet instead of many teams of two, we will be having two main teams. The drastic change of this all will, in theory, be able to throw off any Madrigal who will cross your way. Instead of finding the real clues, you will be finding some clues I have formulated all over the world. The rules are simple: the first team who crosses the finish line wins the race."

"Sounds like awesome TV, home dawg!" came the overly enthusiastic voice of Jonah Wizard.

"And for the last time, Mr. Wizard… you are _not_ allowed to film the race."

"Aww, man!"

"So any questions or clarifications?" inquired Mr. McIntyre. The room fell silent once more. "Then it is settled. Let's begin."

* * *

"Before we begin the casting, I will first make some announcements. In order to find the clue to proceed to the next location, all of you will encounter some challenges that correspond to a specific branch: Ekaterina, Tomas, Janus, and Lucian. Each team must work together in order to proceed to the next stage." spoke Mr. McIntyre as he straightened his tie. Nellie and Mr. Wizard stood on both sides of him, glancing around the banquet hall boredly. "I, Miss Gomez and Mr. Wizard will be monitoring your progress. You must do whatever it takes to get to the next clue, otherwise you may get lost on the way."

"And _yada yada yada!_ Let's go bust some heads!" yelled Eisenhower, with his wife nudging him strongly in the ribs. Mr. McIntyre nodded, with Nellie handing him a cardboard box full of paper strips.

"Thank you," he said, with Nellie responding with a peace sign. "Now, the following will be included in the Blue team:

**Eisenhower Holt**

**Mary-Todd Holt**

**Alistair Oh**

… and **Irina Spasky**." finished Mr. McIntyre, crumpling the last shred of paper. Alistair and Eisenhower shot each other dirty looks, obviously _not_ happy at the knowledge that they'd be working together. William McIntyre ignored this as he pulled out some more paper.

"Now, as for the members of the Red team:

**Amy Cahill**

**Daniel Cahill**

**Hamilton Holt**

**Madison Holt**

**Reagan Holt**

**Ian Kabra**

**Natalie Kabra**

… and **Jonah Wizard**." He then crumpled the paper again, dusting his hands. "Any objections?"

Irina Spasky raised her hand to object. "I believe that we are at an unfair disadvantage. The Red team," she pointed at the kids. "Have _much too much members!_ They are practically _four_ more than us!" She exclaimed, cursing in rapid-fire Russian. Poor Mr. McIntyre looked like he was going to have a heart attack on the spot.

"No worries; we have already arranged for that beforehand." With a gesture of his hand, he waved to the entering visitors from the east side of the hall.

There were three of them all in all, wearing trench coats and hats that obscured their faces. A little bit of their chins shown, and judging by their bodies, they were two women and a man; all seemed to be in their forties. An air of sophistication surrounded them, as if they were aristocrats from ancient Rome.

"Blue team, meet your new members." Announced Mr. McIntyre, and the three simultaneously dropped their hats and coats. The Kabras gasped.

"_Mum?!_ _Dad?! _" Natalie and Ian said in unison, not able to believe it.

But there they were. Vikram Kabra and his dazzling wife stood next to each other, with their cinnamon skin and jet-black hair. Vikram had a strong profile, one that was sure to elude anyone—as if his expression was in a complete poker face. Some gray hairs littered his otherwise flawless hair, and his amber eyes shone bright. His wife was a petite woman, looking mysterious in her red dress. Natalie seemed to have inherited much of her looks—for the woman was quite a beauty, with eyes filled to the brim with secrets better left untold.

"Now children," Vikram said flawlessly, making a smug smile that resembled Ian's. "We're just here to play a little game Mr. McIntyre invited us to join. And _Ian,_ have you been taking care of your little sister?"

"And _Irina,_ there you are!" came the voice of Mrs. Kabra. "What a _pleasure_ to see you again!"

Irina mumbled something inaudible in Russian.

"Hey, Momma! You're here!" came the excited voice of Jonah Wizard. "You're actually here!"

Indeed, the third person was none other than Cora Wizard, head of the Janus. Tall and confident, she looked like someone of her ranks could match superstars like Beyonce Knowles, Halle Berry, Whoopi Goldberg and Queen Latifah… all at the _same time._ She beamed a dazzling smile at her son. "Hey, Baby! How're ya doin'?"

Mr. McIntyre cleared his throat. "Ahem. I hate to spoil this family reunion, but we really must get going."

"Not so fast," Ian spoke briefly. "You _really_ don't expect us to compete against our own _parents_, do you? And they're _Branch Leaders_, for crying out loud!" Mr. and Mrs. Kabra just smiled smugly at their son, as if they had anticipated something like that to happen. Mr. McIntyre rubbed his temples.

"As said, we have made some arrangements beforehand should such conflict arise. Red team, meet your new members." He then gestured towards the main entrance, where three other people entered.

Amy could've sworn that her jaw dropped that exact moment.

The Starlings made their grand entrance, complete with matching smiles and matching outfits. The theme for their ensemble was red that day, which was quite convenient since they were chosen to be members of the Red team. Sinead looked just _gorgeous,_ while Ned and Ted were their usual charming selves. Well, _outwardly_ that was—just like the Kabras, they were actually quite spoiled on the inside. Sinead then headed towards her respective team, looking at Amy and Dan. Making a disgusted face, she pointed at them.

"_You_ owe me a cell phone." She spoke in a slight Valley Girl accent. Amy swallowed hard at the statement, while Dan just frowned.

"Aren't _you_ guys supposed to be in the hospital?" Dan said annoyed, crossing his arms. Amy just sat down, twiddling with her thumbs in a nervous manner. Sinead then brushed off a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. She kept her hair down this time, which framed her face perfectly.

"Well, we're feeling better. And this Amazing Race thing sounded fun, so we decided to go for it." finished Ned, speaking coolly. This seemed to get on Dan's nerves a bit.

"Quite sorry to interrupt your conversation," came the voice of Mr. McIntyre. "But we really must begin our first challenge now! If you won't mind, please follow me outside to the garden… er, one of the gardens. Nellie will brief you on the first challenge."


	2. First Challenge: Flag Making

**Author's Note:** Update! Well, this was a toughie to type up--mostly 'cause the power keeps on going off. And, yeah--having a hard time keeping the characters--well, in-character. Especially Sinead, since we never got to know her that well. Thanks to those who reviewed, I really appreciated your comments. ^^

* * *

After a few complaints from the opposing teams and at the urging of Nellie and Mr. Wizard, William McIntyre decided to let the other teams have a change of clothes before they begin. As well, he made a further announcement that no pets were allowed on the trip, garnering much negative comments from the Holts. Dan opened his duffel to grab a red shirt, looking at it as if it were some foreign object from space. He hadn't had a change of shirt in weeks, and he was fully intent on not having so anyway.

But he decided to not complain about it in the end. Hey, he _was_ in the Red team after all. Though, he wasn't too happy about some of his teammates. The only _nice_ person in the competition was Alistair, and _he_ had to be in the opposing team.

But to say the least, he felt his stomach lurch a bit when he learned that they'd be competing against Branch Leaders—especially Ian and Natalie's parents. As if the two were bad enough. And Jonah's mom—well, he had a feeling that he wouldn't want to get in her way. Even if she seemed quite enthusiastic and nice, he remembered that time in Paris when he rode in Jonah's limo. All the niceness was an act. And if Jonah could act, maybe his mom would be better.

Deciding to put on his hoodie (he never took it off ever since the hunt started), Amy then barged into the room with a slightly pale look on her face. She was wearing a red shirt as well, with a jacket over it. It was kinda weird how they both had been wearing jackets the whole duration of the hunt, but he decided to dismiss this thought.

"All good to go, dweeb?" spoke Amy, leaning on the wall. Her voice sounded a bit nervous.

"Mm-hm." He replied, looking back at his duffel. He still wasn't used to the thought of teaming up with people who had tried to kill them in the past. "Say Amy? Doesn't it feel kinda… _awkward_, to, you know, team up with the Holts and the Kabras?"

Amy sighed, nodding slowly. "Y-Yeah. I guess… I guess it doesn't look too good. But hey, do we have much of a choice?"

Dan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just so—_weird_, you know?"

Shrugging, Amy smiled and pointed to the door. "We better be going. The next challenge is starting."

Nodding, the two headed towards the doorway and towards the East Garden.

* * *

Shades of blue and red littered the garden, with each member garnering their own business. Isabel and Vikram Kabra, both elegantly dressed in blue attire, were chatting with each other in a casual manner. Cora Wizard, dressed in a dark blue power suit, was silently conversing with her husband about Jonah's safety. Mary-Todd stood strongly next to her husband, both in blue jumpsuits, as he gave his children a pep talk coupled with "survival of the fittest" sermons. Dressed in his blue tuxedo, Alistair Oh looked around the vicinity with a hostile eye—with Irina Spasky following suit. Since she was already garbed in her blue uniform, she didn't have to change for the contest.

Meanwhile, in the Red Camp; Hamilton, Madison and Reagan were all dressed in red t-shirts and jogging pants while listening to their dad's sermon. Ian and Natalie, both garbed in red, cast suspicious looks on their parents—chatting quietly as possible. The Starlings were on their high-tech phones talking away, while Jonah Wizard—all dressed in a red jersey—stared at his parents in a "I-can-take-care-of-myself" way. Finally, as Amy and Dan appeared out of the manor, William McIntyre called order in the vicinity and took up the stage.

"Well, it seems as if everybody is present." He spoke. "Now, for one last reminder—your clues will be in the form of cards, which will contain a code on the bottom. For those with state-of-the-art devices, you will be in charge of these codes. They will come out in holographic form, which will be essential in knowing your next location." The Kabra men held out their own devices, then looked at each other in dismay. Mr. McIntyre continued. "Now, Miss Gomez, please take the stage."

"For the last time, dude, it's _Nellie! _" cried Nellie, taking center stage. "I mean, Miss Gomez sounds too—_old_. Yech." Sighing, she looked back at the two teams, giving them a high-spirited smile. "So, yeah. Anyway, the first challenge is the easiest—you know what I'm sayin'? Well, first off, all you guys gotta do is to make your team flag. 'Cause, well,_ McIntyre dude's_ gonna need it to track you guys down in case something bad happens." Mr. McIntyre frowned at Nellie, to which she stuck her tongue at him. "Now you know how it feels to be called '_Miss Gomez_.' So anyway, both teams contain at least one Janus member, am I right?" Jonah and his mom looked at each other, smiling sweetly. Nellie continued. "Any questions? Good. Now get your rears in gear and start making that flag! You guys only have one hour!"

On both opposite camps lay a bolt of white cloth, Mongol number 2 pencils, cans of paint, and paintbrushes dirty beyond compare. As both teams realized this, Nellie yelled, "Almost forgot! Cleaning the paintbrushes is part of the challenge!"

"Alright team! Since this thing is Janus turf, _I'm_ in charge here." came the bossy voice of Jonah Wizard, looking at the Red team sternly. Before Natalie had a chance to protest, Jonah interrupted. "And no snarky comments. We gotta do this my way, my orders."

As Madison spun her finger around her ear in a "cuckoo" gesture, Jonah gave her a piercing glance. "Didn't I just say something about all them sass? Now," he pointed at the Starlings. "You, you and you—go make the outline on them cloth. When you guys see the color red, what do ya'll think about?"

"Apples." Dan said smugly.

"_Fire_. I'm thinkin' a big triangle all in flames, with all the other elements burning below it." Jonah smirked. "'Cause our team's gonna cream them all. Holt, you go help the Starlings."

The Holt siblings looked at each other in confusion. "Which one?"

Sighing, Jonah slapped his forehead. "I forgot. You guys need _specific_ instructions. Hamilton, _you_ help the Starlings."

"On it!" And off they went.

Jonah then pointed at the Kabras. "You, you—you guys will be in charge of the painting. Holt twins, you guys go help them Kabras with that."

Ian and Natalie looked at each other in distaste, with no intention whatsoever of succumbing to the self-conceited creep's orders. Looking back at the Blue team, they both sighed—knowing that this was the only way to get the clue. "Oh, I suppose." came Ian's sarcastic statement. Gesturing to the three girls, he spoke, "Come on. Let's get a move on, shall we?"

Dan and Amy looked at each other, and then at Jonah. "What are _we_ gonna do?"

Jonah rubbed his chin, as if he had a hard time thinking of something useful of them to do. "Oh, yeah. You two. Almost forgot." The two grumbled. It seemed as if Jonah didn't really consider them part of the team. He then muttered, "Let's see… we _do_ need them paintbrushes cleaned. Right." He then pointed at the two. "Cahill dudes, you guys are on cleanup duty!"

"What!" yelled Dan, with Jonah throwing the bucket of dirty paintbrushes at them. Amy cringed as she took one out of the bucket, plopping it back abruptly. Grudgingly, the two then marched towards the manor once more—with Dan scowling deeply.

"I can't believe that _he_ still thinks we can't do anything! I mean; we got the first clue, we were able to ditch him in Venice… _argh!_ Who does he think he _is?! _" Dan whined, gripping the bucket tightly. Anger distorted Dan's face slightly, giving him a nasty pout. Amy looked at the ground, trying to process everything that was happening.

"Look Dan, I know that he's a conceited jerk, but I don't think we have much of a choice. We'll just have to play along until the whole thing's over—no matter how _bad_ it sounds." Amy spoke softly. She didn't like to run-in with other people that much—especially people who tried to kill you over the past weeks. It wouldn't settle for good after the tournament.

"Yeah," Dan spoke defeatedly. He hated it when Amy was right. "But I really wanna shove some sense into him."

Arriving at the sink, the two began to remove all the muck and grim from the brushes. The task itself seemed to take hours of labor—although, they would have to make it faster to meet the time limit. At last, after what seemed like an eternity of work, the brushes were finally clean—and the two Cahills were sweating profusely. Dan wondered how they got that dirty in the first place.

Back at the garden, they noticed that the outline was finally done—if not a bit doodle-ish. It seemed as if the four didn't get along quite well… but at least there was still progress. Right now, everybody was just waiting for them. Jonah crossed his arms impatiently.

"Where the heck were you guys? If you didn't forget, there's a _time_ _limit_ to this thing." Came Jonah's agitated statement, with the others looking back at them. Amy thought that she would shrink.

"We're… we're sorry," she said quietly, looking back down at the clover. Dan looked at Jonah angrily.

"You don't need to apologize to this jerk. At least _we_ got the job done." Dan muttered, thrusting the bucket of paintbrushes at him. "Here you go, _Jonah_."

Jonah opened his mouth to say something, but made a last minute decision and closed it again. He decided that it would take too much time to argue with him. "Whatever. Ian, Natalie, Holt twins—do your thing." He spoke, handing the paintbrushes at them. Ian and Natalie looked at each other again, and the four then resumed to paint the flag. Plopping on the grass, Dan crossed his arms as he watched the whole scene being replayed. It just wasn't fair. Here was Jonah Wizard, the dude who couldn't even get a single _clue_, thinking that he was all _high_ and _mighty_. Amy just rocked on her heels nervously next to him.

Dan took a quick glance at the flag. For some reason, something didn't seem right—there was something out of the groove, and it stuck up like a sore thumb. Something was missing.

Grabbing a red can of paint from Madison (she didn't seem too thrilled at the gesture), Dan threw its entire contents on to the flag—shocking the daylights out of everyone. Amy cast a look at Dan, who was smiling triumphantly at his work.

"Dan!" cried Amy. "What. Did. You. Just. _Do?!_ "

"We worked long and hard on that!" yelled Ned and Ted in unison.

"We had to mix _ten _colors just to get the perfect shade of red!" piped in Natalie, whose complexion seemed to redden in anger.

"And I had to work with Little-Miss-Conceited over there for _fifteen minutes! _" yelled Reagan, pointing at Natalie. Natalie shot her an icy glare, which didn't seem to affect her much. Jonah then stepped in to see all the chaos, widening his eyes in awe.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… that is—that is _brilliant_, dawg!" he cried out, looking at the flag. Indeed, it seemed that Dan's act of bad judgment was actually a good call—the red smack dab in the middle of the cloth seemed like a ball of intense fire—well, at least in Jonah's eyes. He then grabbed another can of paint, opening it slowly.

"Seems like the Cahill kid's _actually_ got a point here—everybody, spill all them warm colors! Red, yellow, orange… whatever!" Jonah yelled, flinging the paint onto the canvas once more. Looking at each other in slight confusion, they simultaneously shrugged and began opening the other cans of paint. Shades of red, yellow and orange were flung onto the canvas, like a spontaneous wildfire.

Amy was about to get another bucket of paint, until she felt a wet a splat of yellow paint hit her left cheek. Looking to her left, she saw Sinead Starling grinning mockingly at her.

"Aww, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," she mocked, while her two brothers snickered behind her back. "Though, take my word for it—it's a _big_ improvement."

Ned and Ted led out a loud laugh and gave each other high-fives, while she heard the others snicker as well. Amy felt like she was thrown into a well. Everybody was laughing, laughing at her—she began to fiddle with the jade necklace furiously, as if in doing so she would actually bring Grace back. If Grace was there, she'd help her and tell her that it was alright.

But she wasn't. And there she was, being laughed at with a beet-red face. She looked at her feet in embarrassment.

"Aww, she's crying!" came Hamilton's obnoxious voice. Amy tried her best to fight back the tears welling up, hoping that her hair would make an efficient cover for her face. Fortunately, Jonah came to the spot.

"Seriously, what part of _time limit_ can't you guys get? We gotta keep movin'!" Jonah barked, dumping another can of paint onto the canvas. The laughing stopped instantly, save for a few grumbles. For once in her life, Amy was actually _glad_ to hear the conceited jerk's voice.

After a few more minutes, Jonah added the finishing touches to the flag, and everything was done. Dusting his hands, he turned to the team proudly. "Well guys, we've done it! The flag's all done!"

"Yay." came some unenthusiastic voices, which dismayed Jonah.

"Aw c'mon, dudes! This is _supposed_ to be a happy occasion! Learn to celebrate!"

"Time's up!" announced Nellie, holding up some stopwatch that came out of nowhere. "Contestants, display your flags!"

The Blue team was the first to display. Vikram and Alistair held the flag up, while Cora Wizard stood in front of it proudly. An air of confidence exploded all around her, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Beaming proudly, the flag contained a picture of a woman ascending from a lake—as if she were made of water as well. The water illuminated with a million shades of blue, purple, and green. Cora took the stage.

"I am proud to present the emblem of the blue team, which, after much conflict, is finally completed." she spoke, smiling proudly. Vikram made a loud "pfft" in response.

"The madwoman worked us like dogs! She even ruined my best shirt!" he moaned, looking quite dismayed. Cora shot him a disapproving look, looking back at the panel of judges. "This man was _one-half_ of the reason why we almost didn't finish on time. He kept on complaining about _everything!_ "

"Insane Janus." Vikram muttered.

"Stupid Lucian." She retorted.

"Um… well! I guess it's time for the Red team to present now, right?" Nellie spoke nervously. As the two Branch Leaders returned to their places, they both still gave each other dirty looks. Jonah Wizard took center stage, with the Holt twins holding up the flag.

"We had some of them problems at first," Jonah spoke, beaming a large smile. "But we finally pulled through, thanks to yours truly!" he said, gesturing to himself. The Red team grumbled at his arrogance, knowing that he hardly lifted a finger. But to say the least, their flag was quite unique—the colors stood out boldly, just as fire stood out in the night. The colors whirlwinded around like a hurricane, giving it an impression of spontaneity. The canvas itself seemed like it was on fire.

"Awesome," came Nellie's voice, although she didn't seem too pleased to see Jonah. Pulling out two cards, she wagged them casually. "Since both teams finished on time, both will receive the cards!" she then tossed them to Vikram and Ian, who caught them gracefully. Nellie then turned to Amy and Dan, winking at them for Good Luck. "Take care, little dudes."

"At will, you may proceed to your next destination." came the well-modulated voice of William McIntyre. "Just a few words before you leave: take care, and cooperate."

Simultaneously, Ian and Vikram Kabra typed in the codes of the cards on their BlackBerrys. Pressing a button, an image appeared in hologram—which, it seemed, was that of a manhole. The teams flocked the image like sheep, anxious to see the destination.

"Ow!" Madison cried. "Someone stepped on my foot!"

"It's a manhole," Natalie spoke. She squinted her eyes slightly. "The only problem is, _which_ manhole?"

"There are like, millions of manholes in the world, dude." spoke Hamilton.

"It could be anywhere." Ian spoke. "A country, a city—for all we know, it could be either in Manchester or Tokyo."

Amy closed her eyes a bit. The backdrop of it all seemed quite familiar to her, and she tried hard to recall where she saw it before. There was some sort of tall figure in the horizon of the image, and she knew that she had seen it somewhere. The figure was too far for anyone to make out, and yet…

"It's in New York." Amy spoke, opening her eyes. "The manhole is in New York."

Everybody looked at her incredulously.

"How'd you know that?" inquired Dan, raising an eyebrow at his sister. She blushed as she realized that everyone was staring at her for answers—the attention made her woozy. Her tongue seemed to turn solid and heavy.

"The—the f-figure," she stammered. "On the backdrop. It's—it's the Statue of Liberty. O-on the hor-horizon."

The group took a second glance at the image. After further notice, they all saw it—the vague figure of a lady holding up a torch, a crown upon her head. Ian widened his eyes at this slightly, as if he was a bit startled. "By Jove, I do believe she's right!"

"Interesting," Natalie spoke. She then turned to her teammates with a questioning look on her face. "But where will we get the transportation?" She looked at Ian. "Since mum and dad are part of the race, they'll probably cut off our transportation _and_ our allowance."

"Indeed." spoke Ian. "It's quite a large possibility."

"And we had to actually take _public_ transportation here!" spoke Sinead. Ned and Ted shook their heads solemnly. "Mom and Dad thought that we'd be in_ more_ danger, so they cut off all _our_ allowance."

"No problem!" spoke Jonah, beaming a large smile. "I don't have to rely on my mom for _my_ allowance! I make 'em myself!"

On queue, a large jet flew downwards—without making a single scratch on the ground. The group (excluding the Starlings and the Kabras) gaped at the jet, as if it was the first time they had seen anything like it. It was sleek and black, seemingly perfect for espionage. Moreover, it sparkled—compliments to the large jewels that was encrusted in it. As it opened, Jonah beamed a smile at the group.

"Welcome, everybody," he spoke. "To the Wizard Express."

* * *

As they rode on Jonah's jet, Sinead took a quick glance at the Cahills. The boy was gaping at the whole thing like an idiot, while the girl kept her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. She definitely didn't seem to enjoy being there—moreover, enjoy being around _them_ at all. Then again, those two _were_ their greatest competitors—so she didn't mind that much. It was quite normal, given the circumstances.

Sinead then averted her gaze to the Kabras, who were casually watching some in-flight movie. She couldn't help but smile as she looked at the boy, who, to say the least, was quite _handsome_. He was rather charming in his fiery-red polo, and seemed quite mature and cunning. There was something about him that stood out, he was unlike any guy she had ever met. That, and he was also rich.

Rich, charming, and handsome. Those were the qualities that made a Prince Charming, or which Sinead thought they should. He wasn't like all those guys at Westwood. He was more refined, more regal—she tried to stifle the overly girlish giggle that had begun to form in her throat. Earlier, she took a picture of him and sent it to one of her friends.

"What do you think?" she spoke, waiting for her friend's reply.

"He's so hot! So, like, where's he from?" her friend had said, letting out a few girlish giggles as well.

"Heard he was born in London. London! That's, like, where the Royal Family lives!" she spoke excitedly.

"Oh my gosh! Showed his picture to the girls. We all think that you two would be, like, _perfect_ together!"

"Shut up!"

"Well, it's true! Right, girls?"

A bunch of feminine voices were then heard I the background. "Right!"

And Sinead was sure they were. Like, _hello?_ Wasn't Sinead Starling the most gorgeous, the most popular and the richest person in all of Oak Bluffs? Sinead Starling was the sweetheart who got anything she wanted, whether the others liked it or not. She wouldn't mind busting a few heads to make her point. Unfortunately, there were always those stray ends that wouldn't stay down.

She darted her attention back at the Cahills, focusing on the girl. Although all of them were supposed to be teammates in this competition, she considered Amy Cahill as her worst competitor.

There was nothing special about her. She looked plain, her hair was a rat's nest, and she wore gaudy jewelry. Not to mention that she was as shy as a mouse. She wasn't much of a threat, as it seemed. But lately, Sinead noticed that she was the object of the boy's attention—at her attempt to ruin the girl, he _did_ laugh; but he looked at her in a curious way. They were far from mocking, almost—apologetic? Guilty? It was a crazy thought, but it sure seemed like that.

But one thing was for sure—the boy was hers. And whatever she wanted, she got it.


	3. First Clue: New York

**Author's note:** Phew! Update! I'm not dead, guys! Sorry that this took so long to update. Though it's pretty much summer here, I got a summer job. But I _will_ update, I swear. The Cahills were being mean to me this time. All of them wanted attention. (T_T) And Dan's pretty much unpredictable. One day, he's hating you--the next he's giving you his utmost respect. Plane rides do _wonders_ to you. ^^

* * *

Amy's eyes popped open as she woke up, looking around the plane in a daze.

How long had she been asleep?

The atmosphere was cool and crisp in the Wizard Private Jet—with the soft yet sleek furniture, in-flight televisions and reclining chairs. Purple carpeting cushioned her feet. Soothing jazz music played in the background. Quite frankly, she felt refreshed—as if it was the first sleep she had in days.

Her eyes widened slightly at the realization. It _was_ the first sleep she had in days.

It was weird how the universe worked. One day, she was just some ordinary kid living a lame life; the next day, she was running from relatives trying to kill her— and then the _next_ day, she was practically sitting there in all vulnerability in a private jet with all those who tried to kill her. The thought of all this dizzied her like a rollercoaster ride, giving her an urge to lean back on her seat. Everyone was still asleep, and—most annoyingly—Dan was asleep on her shoulder. She tried to fight back the increasing urge to laugh at his expression.

Suddenly, the speakers crackled to life with Jonah's voice.

"This is the awesome teen sensation Jonah Wizard speakin'! And since I'm pretty sure that all y'all are sleepin'… WAKE UP!!!"

It seemed as if Jonah's tactic worked, since everyone got up at once. With humorous results, you may note.

As the Holt siblings woke up, out of habit, they rose exactly as the plane was approaching turbulence. Wobbling with resounding "whoa!"s, it didn't take long before they lost balance and fell on each other. Which resulted to a famous Holt fight. The result: Chaos.

Right after the Holts woke up, the Kabras followed suit. They didn't shoot up like the Holts did… but as the plane approached turbulence, their drinks fell on their expensive red tailor-made outfits. Natalie shot a shriek of disgust and horror, while Ian started complaining and made his speech on how he was going to sue everyone and everything around him. The result: Chaos.

When the Starlings woke up, Ted stretched his arms which resulted to hitting Sinead's sunglasses off—which she made Ned get. Ned then bumped on the in-flight table as the flight approached turbulence, which sent food and drinks spilling on the triplets. The result: Chaos.

"Sweetness," Dan whispered, a cheeky smile etched on his face. He turned to his sister eagerly. "Do you have a cellphone? This would make _great_ blackmail!"

"Dan!"

"Aww!"

The speaker crackled to life once more. "How're my homies doin' there?"

Everyone growled in frustration.

"Aw, c'mon dudes! Have some spunk!"

"We did," Sinead yelled. "Right before the turbulence!"

A door then slid open with a soft swishing sound, with Jonah Wizard ascending from it. He looked slightly annoyed. "Now what do y'all mean by…" One look at the place changed his expression completely. "Whoa. I mean, _dang_… this place looks like a tornado hit it! You'd think that people tried to _kill_ each other here!"

"You _think_," Natalie spoke, red-faced in anger.

A man's voice was heard from the speakers. "Um, Mr. Wizard—we are about to land."

"Oh, right!" Jonah spoke, holding his forehead. A big smile suddenly etched across his face. "Fasten your seatbelts, baby! This is gonna be one _heck _of a ride!"

For some reason, the others seemed to get the cue. While the others were busy buckling up, a cord fell down just right where Jonah was—to which he took it cordially. Everybody looked at him like he was an insane madman. Just as he took hold of it, the jet nose-dived into the clouds—jolting everyone present downwards. Placing her hands over her mouth, Amy screamed her lungs out, while Jonah laughed maniacally. Everyone else seemed to panic.

"INSANE JANUS!" Ian yelled, backing up into his seat. Soon after, the others started to scream as well.

"_Woo-hoo! Wahahahahahahaha!"_ Jonah cried, a crazy grin on his face. Only someone with a crumbling mental stability would be brave enough to endure the dive while holding a mere cord. Some people actually _paled_ that precise moment. Dan, on the other hand, thought otherwise.

"BOO-YAH! I like your style, cuz!" he yelled, clutching onto his seat. Amy thought that she was going to vomit.

The frenzy died down as the plane began to move smoothly—a dull _thud!_ resounding as it hit the hard ground. After some turns, the plane halted—much to the relief of many. "Thank you for riding the Wizard Express," Jonah spoke as the cord retracted to the ceiling. At that moment, everybody was glaring at him.

"That was the _worst flight_ ever!" came the chorus of the Holts, Kabras, and Starlings. Amy and Dan just looked at each other.

"Loosen up a bit! It wasn't _that_ bad! " Jonah spoke as he directed them towards the exit. Everybody grumbled as they descended from the plane, which to say the least was something _everyone_ was happy about. Dan seemed to have a newfound appreciation for his relative.

"That was awesome!" Dan cried, looking at the older boy. "Do you do that every time?"

Jonah beamed a smile at him. "All the time, lil' cuz."

"New York City," Sinead spoke, looking at the place after passing Immigration. She looked back at the group with a large smile. "Now this is _my_ kind of place."

Crowds littered the roads to where they had arrived, with some tourists in Hawaiian shirts walked around and took pictures. A frenzy of people was to be expected in the Big Apple. Little kids hanging on to their mother's hands. Men walking their dogs across the paths. Businessmen yelling into their phones. And other faces that couldn't be distinguished. Madison scowled at the ruckus.

"We should've brought earplugs," she spoke, covering her ears. Reagan followed suit, looking at her older brother.

"It's even louder than Ham's snoring!" she spoke teasingly, to which earned a hit on the head from Hamilton.

"I do _not_ snore that loud!"

"Yes you do!" the twins chorused.

"Shush!" Ian warned, looking at the Holts. "We must head towards our destination as inconspicuously as possible!"

"We found it!" Ted yelled, pointing towards an open area. "The manhole's this way!"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Jonah chimed in. "Let's go!"

To say the least, it took a long while for them to reach the appropriate area for several reasons. Due to the little incident on the plane, the others chided for a change of clothes. Some wanted to go sightseeing, and others were a bit jetlagged.

"Would y'all shut up?!" Jonah yelled. "You guys are louder then all them people here in New York!"

Then after a while, they finally arrived at their destination. The manhole was roughly estimated to fit them all—though it seemed that the others had to squeeze in a bit more tightly. Hamilton crouched down towards the grating, lifting it with some difficulty. "This weighs _tons!"_

"C'mon, Ham," Reagan chided, helping him a bit. Madison helped in as well, until the three of them were able to pull the grating open. The group looked down below at the darkness, with a slightly putrid smell coming from it. Jonah winced.

"Now who's gonna go down first?" he spoke, looking at everyone. Everyone seemed to be hesitant. "Well?"

Amy looked at it with an uneasy face. She was never that keen on things like these, although she knew that these things happened every once in a while. Everyone nudged each other, prodding them to go down first. It was clear that nobody was willing to take the initiative, yet if this continued, Amy knew that the hunt for the clue would be of _no_ productivity. Shooting a glance at Dan, she knew that he felt the same way. Nobody was sure about _what_ to expect once they got down the hole.

_Someone has to do it,_ Dan spoke with his eyes. _But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure if I can handle it_.

_You're the brave one,_ Amy replied. _You do it_.

_It's too dangerous,_ he retorted. _You're the eldest. __**You**__ do it_.

She took another uneasy glance at the hole. As much as she hated to admit, her brother had a point. She had heard of reports of people gone missing underground, and the danger of a flood-in was inevitable. With a sigh, she gave her brother one last look before volunteering herself. "I'll do it."

"Wonderful, cuz!" Jonah chimed. She didn't know whether this was of genuine gladness or of forced happiness. Her face reddened a bit in embarrassment; in which afterwards she positioned herself near the manhole. It was dark and dreary, and she couldn't help but ask herself once more why she was doing this crazy feat. _It's for the best_, she thought with a sense of finality—right before she plopped into the mysterious abyss.

* * *

A dull sound greeted her as she landed on the floor; with her almost stumbling into the rushing water. Dimming light bulbs littered the tunnel left and right, with heavy steel pipes criss-crossing at the top of the sewer. Gaskets, valves and gauges popped up randomly from some of the tubes—all adding to the complexity of the sewer background. Amy didn't know what to think that moment. In fact, she didn't think at all.

"Amy!" came Dan's voice from above, breaking into her state of blankness. "How's it like down there?"

"Um… I think it's safe," she spoke softly. "Y-You guys can come down whenever you want."

"Well, you heard the girl! Who's gonna go next?" came the voice of Jonah, always a little too eager. "We can't just stand here! We gotta gank the clue before them Blue Team gets here!"

"Although his mental stability is quite questionable, the Janus has a point." came the voice of Ian Kabra. Amy felt herself stiffen. "I guess I'll go down first." He spoke casually, almost as if it wasn't a big deal that he'd be joining the person he'd left for dead at a cave-in in Korea. Panic started to override all of Amy's sense.

"Let Dan come down next!" she spoke hurriedly. It was a good thing the faces of the others were obscured, or else she'd be stuttering like crazy. It sounded dumb even to her. Overhead, she heard the others starting to discuss about the next line of action, which didn't seem to make much progress. Branch differences made it hard for the others to cooperate, which made the discussion drag longer than expected. She could tell from below that Dan wasn't a bit pleased by this.

"I'll go already! _Sheesh,_" he spoke in exasperation. "You guys don't have to make such a fuss about it."

In a moment, she saw Dan descend from the top with his hoodie on. His face was contorted with a look of irritation, as if to say_ Dang, those guys take long!_. Looking up, the sibling could tell from below the group began another discussion about who was going down next. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Hamilton descended.

"Phew!" he spoke, fanning his nose. "Who forgot to flush?"

"_You_ always do," came the voice of Madison as she plopped into the tunnel. He shot her a glare.

"Well, _you_ always hog the bathroom!"

"Well, _I_ always get in last!" whined Reagan as she landed, which although didn't quite fit in with the conversation was enough for the Holts to begin a heated conversation about bathrooms. Amy sighed, putting a hand to her forehead.

After the Holts dropped down, next in line were the Kabras. Ian dropped down with a flourish, brushing off the dust from his extremely expensive attire. "Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" he spoke with a smile, looking at Amy. At once, she took a keen interest on the creepy-crawlies on the floor. Natalie then dropped in with her luxuriant black hair trailing behind her; a disgusted look contorting her features.

"Ugh! How distasteful," she spoke, fanning her nose. Her stylish red dress swayed a bit below her knees as she grimaced at all the grime. "And how _disgusting!_ Ian," she looked at her brother. "Carry me."

Just before Ian began to protest, Jonah Wizard dropped in with the rest of them. He, too, seemed to notice the acrid smell. "HOO-EY! Dang, that is the _smelliest_ thing I've ever smelled!"

"You tell me," came the voice of Ted Starling as he dropped from the hole. He dusted his stylish red vest and white polo, primping up his hair a bit. His brother Ned then landed after him, repeating the procedure. It wasn't hard to tell that they were related. "High Five, man!" Ted spoke enthusiastically as the two gave each other high-fives—with Ian groaning at their ignorance.

"Aagh!" came a despaired cry from the hole. The group quickly gathered below it, curious as to where the voice came from. As it turned out, Sinead was caught in one of the rungs. Ned and Ted started to laugh hysterically.

"Aww, sissy's all caught up in the ladder!" Ned chortled.

"_Shut up!_"

Even Hamilton led out a snort. "Pfft… girlie's all stuck in the widdle hole!" Jonah couldn't help but laugh a bit as well. Dan led out a large belly laugh.

"It's not funny!" Sinead yelled.

"Well aren't we civilized?" Ian spoke sarcastically, looking at everyone. "This is _clearly_ going to compromise our mission." He muttered to himself, heading towards the manhole. Straightening his arms, he held them up for Sinead to reach. "Come on, we've got to get a move on."

The girl caught on to both of his hands, pulling herself free of the rung. She fell instantly, yet he caught her before she landed—tightening his arms around her. At this gesture a blush came from the both of them, with Ian instantly pulling away at the realization.

"Ahem." He spoke, regaining his composure. "Well, that was _quite_ an awkward situation."

Amy looked the other direction instantly, an unfamiliar feeling flooding her. It was like her temperature shot a few hundred degrees. "Um… we—we should be looking for the clue, r-right?" she spoke shakily, playing with the hems of her shirt. Everyone seemed to remember what was at hand.

"Right!" spoke Hamilton. "Okay, gang—let's split up and search for clues!"

"Hey!" Reagan whined. "No Scooby-Doo quotes!"

"And who said that _you_ should lead?" came the voice of Jonah Wizard. And yet another long-winded conversation came to existence.

Natalie sighed. "How absurd."

"Hey!" Dan yelled, with his voice luckily higher than the others. Everyone stopped immediately. "Since this is getting us nowhere, why don't we just follow Hamilton? At least _he_ actually has a plan! (Though, he isn't exactly the brightest bulb of the bunch.)" Hamilton made a triumphant face.

"Ha-ha! The Cahill twerp actually agrees with me!"

Another debate came into existence. Amy shook her head silently, knowing that at this rate nothing was going to happen. The slight twinge in her chest still lingered there, like a wound that kept on taunting her. Her breath caught onto her throat like a cannonball as she spotted something glinting in the murky water.

"Um, guys…" her voice was almost a squeak.

_RRRRRRRRRR_.

A sound like a cross between a humming motor and a creaking door was heard—with everyone suddenly turning silent. Their breathing turned shallow. Some sweat drops rolled down Jonah's forehead.

"Is that…" Ted whispered. "What I think it is?"

A soft ripple broke out on the water.

_RAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!_

"_Jumping Jiminy Christmas! _" Ned exclaimed.

A pair of ivory jaws jousted at them, with the rest of the creature's scaly body launching out of the rushing water. An Albino Alligator, as it seemed—with big pronounced jaws that began snapping at them. Shortly after, a few more alligators came into view—seemingly hungry and bloodthirsty. Sinead screamed.

"Run!" Madison yelled, and the whole group did just that. Running as fast as their legs could take them, the Red Team was in total panic.

"_Dang!_ Who knew that Albino Alligators lived here?!" came the nervous voice of Hamilton. He was the fastest runner of them all, even outrunning the twins Madison and Reagan. A jungle of pipework greeted them as they continued running, with more panic pouring into the group. Amy thought that her lungs could pop any second.

"I-Ian!" came the tired voice of Natalie. Never in all her training had she run this fast. "I don't, I don't think—"

"Oh, _blast it all!_ Get on, _now!_" Ian spoke in exasperation, stopping to carry Natalie. She promptly got onto his back, and they resumed their running. Jonah then stopped a few steps behind the group, looking backwards. Everyone was in shock.

"Jonah! Get back here!"

He didn't listen.

"Blast it, you fool!" yelled Ian. "Don't let your insane Janus instincts rule over you!"

The alligators inched closer to the standing rap star. For some reason, he didn't seem quite shaken as he did a while ago. He even seemed—Heaven forbid—_confident_. Triumphant. The alligators prepared to open their jaws to grind the tasty new treat in front of them.

"Jonah please! You—you have to listen to us! Come back!" Amy yelled, not withstanding the pressure. It was a last-minute attempt to call Jonah back. Yet just like the others, it was all for nothing. The group closed their eyes, hoping to not to witness the bloody gore that they were sure that would soon follow. Yet curiously, something else had transpired once they closed their eyes.

_TWUNK!_

_PING!_

_WONK!_

As the group opened their eyes, the alligators fled from the scene in fear—with Jonah carrying a steel 24-inch pipe that wasn't seen before. By the look on Jonah's face, it wasn't hard to see that _he_ indeed was the triumphant one. He was pointing the metal pipe at the alligators tauntingly.

"Uh-huh, that's right! Shoo! Y'all can't stand the heat of Jonah Wizard!" he spoke triumphantly, marching back to the group after taunting the alligators. "Dang, am I glad I attended that 'What to Do in Case of an Albino Alligator Attack' seminar mom organized!"

"You knew what to do all along," Natalie cried, her complexion reddening. "And you never _told us?!_"

"Whoa, chill out," Jonah said casually, although almost _everyone_ in the group had took to glaring at him. "I panicked, that's all! You know how panic makes people forget, right? C'mon! Can't you guys handle a lil' forgetfulness?" Some people in the group moved towards him, with eyes threatening to kill. Luckily for Jonah, Dan spotted something before they had a chance to wring his neck.

"Guys! Check it out!" he said excitedly, pointing to something on the walls. "It's a sign!"

As the group headed where he was, they found out he was right. But it wasn't just _any_ old sign —it was a symbol of a bear, clumsily spray-painted centuries ago. A blue backdrop followed it, as if it was truly meant for them to see it. The Holts instantly reacted on this.

"The Tomas Crest!" they spoke all at once, and instantly began head-butting each other triumphantly. The others seemed to light up at this discovery, rejoicing with a series of witty dance moves. This meant that they were on the right track, although the card seemed to be out of sight.

"Yeah, so we found the Tomas Crest," Sinead spoke nonchalantly. "But where's the clue? I mean, that's what we're here for, right?"

Amy slid her hands over the wall. Grace had once told them that sometimes what you were looking for came out from unexpected sources—that sometimes what you were looking for might actually be under your nose. She smiled sadly at the fond memory, still feeling the cracks and crevices for—something? She didn't know. She gasped silently as she felt a weakness in the wall, as if there was once a hole there that was newly filled-in.

"I—I think I found something!" she cried incredulously, with the others instantly swarming her. "A weakness in the wall!"

Dan groped around the wall, trying to see what Amy was talking about. He finally came across the area, noting that the paint seemed fresh. "You can punch a hole in it!" he inferred, readying his knuckles. Instead of punching a hole, the rough wall made its impact on the boy instead. "YEOWWWWW!!!"

Putting a hand to her forehead, Amy sighed. "You are _such_ a dweeb."

"Back off, Danny boy!" Hamilton spoke, pushing him to the side. "This one's a job for a Tomas!"

"I never get to punch first!" whined Reagan, looking at her brother in contempt. Madison glared at her, making it known that she was the older and more dominant twin.

"Well, why don't you just go back to your laptop and play the latest version of _Ninja Gaiden_ online, huh? Don't you always do that?" Madison said with a sneer, sending a look of hurt shattering across Reagan's face—one that was never seen and must _never_ be seen on the young Holt's face. The others seemed shocked at this.

"But—but…" Reagan stuttered—a usual Amy thing. She then bowed her head embarrassedly, pacing far away from the group. Dan looked on in shock, feeling an unusual pity for her as she slunk back.

"That's not fair!" he yelled at them, heading for Reagan. A look of guilt seemed to ripple across the two remaining Holt siblings, yet it passed quickly. "We need to get the job done," Hamilton muttered, positioning his right arm. A large _CRACKK!_ sounded as he punched through the weak spot, revealing a card underneath all the rubble.

"The clue!" Ned and Ted spoke simultaneously. Natalie took the clue neatly, blowing off the dust it had acquired. Handing it to Ian, he input the code onto his BlackBerry, with another image flashing via hologram out of the screen. To the utter surprise of the group, the image was a pack of _Poker cards_.

"So our next destination is _Poker?_" Sinead said in a dazed manner, scrutinizing the image. "That doesn't make sense."

"No, it's not Poker." Ian responded curtly, as if he couldn't find anything plausible in her statement. "I think the Poker cards are supposed to make us think of a place, although it seems quite… _vague_."

"You could play Poker anywhere," Natalie spoke. "On the living room, in a bar, in a patio…"

"Or a Casino," Jonah spoke, with eyes lighting up. It seemed as if he had an idea. "I got it! The next clue's in Las Vegas!"

"Las Vegas?" Sinead spoke with distaste. "Ew. Do they really expect us to go there? I mean, we're like, _minors_. Isn't it, like, _illegal_ for minors to gamble?"

"We'll have to find out." Ian spoke briefly, with the image fading from the screen. "I guess our next destination is Las Vegas."

Suddenly, a low rumble came from behind them. Amy noticed this first, yet she thought that it was yet another Albino Alligator. Yet the rumbling kept coming and coming, a dark foreboding entering her. "Do you hear that?" she spoke in a low whisper, with everyone falling silent. The more they listened on, it sounded less and less like an Albino Alligator and more and more like…

"HIT THE DECK!" came Amy's outdoor voice, and everyone dropped to the floor immediately. The pipes above them instantly exploded, with bits of metal flying everywhere. Before long, water from the pipes began filling the rushing sewer water—and the whole tunnel started to flood in.

* * *

"Hey! Wait up, will ya?" Dan yelled, catching a glimpse of Reagan's red shirt. She looked back instantly, obviously not pleased that he had interrupted her pity walk. In an instant, she shot a cold look at him.

"Go away." She spoke, yet her voice was unnaturally low—as if she had intentionally tried to control its volume. And then it hit him. By the way Reagan looked, it was apparent to him that she actually seemed to be… _crying_. For a moment, he felt a slight dab of admiration at how secretly she could conceal it. But aside from that, Dan couldn't help but ask himself why the heck he was doing this.

"I'm not here to, you know, disturb you or something." he spoke frankly, as if it was a Fact of Life. "I just, well, uh…" When the words wouldn't come out his mouth, he thought momentarily that he was turning into his sister. Reagan looked on with the scowl still on her face, which seemed to complicate things a little more. Sighing, he began again with his sentence.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay." He finally said, noting how _dumb_ the words sounded. _She's gonna kill me,_ he thought nervously, noting the obvious scowl seemed to gain animosity. He_ knew_ it was a dumb idea to follow her. Fortunately, her scowl disappeared completely— yet this time, it was replaced by a downcast glance.

"It's none of your business. Go away." She said half-heartedly, as if, miraculously, she didn't _want_ to fight Dan. She turned away from him, shaking a bit. "This doesn't concern you. I'm—I'm just _fine!_ Just… _peachy_…" After a long struggle, two stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks slowly, yet she was able to stop the other ones from falling. Turning away from him completely, her back was quivering violently.

He didn't like situations like these. He always thought of them as "girly" situations, and did everything he could to avoid them _as much as possible_. Having a big sister like Amy, you'd think that he was an expert at it. Yet for some reason, even after all his experience, he didn't know how to escape this one. Sighing, he decided to talk to her—it _definitely_ made more progress than being quiet.

"Look, I'm… I… well," he sighed. He _was_ turning into Amy. "I don't—that wasn't fair. I mean, I really think you deserved to punch the hole in—why can't you? You guys are kinda strong, and I don't think it was fair that they didn't let you. Well, I _do_ have a big sister and all so I _kinda_ know how it feels. And it was wrong, you know, that they put you down just 'cause you like playing video games and… uh… hey, I play _Ninja Gaiden_ so, uh…" he decided to trail off there. Every word started to sound dumber and dumber.

Something startling then happened. Reagan _laughed_—actually laughed! And not in a taunting way, mind you. "You're such a loser," she said, albeit shakily. A small smile then appeared across her face, which kinda made Dan smile too. Wiping off some tears, she turned to face him fully.

"So you play _Ninja Gaiden?_ " she said, as if she didn't believe him. He was aghast.

"'Course I do!" he said defiantly. "In fact, I'm in Level 15!"

She rolled her eyes, making a "pfft!" sound. "_Please_. That level's for amateurs! I'm on Level 25."

"What!" Dan cried. He felt like a bucket of ice was being dumped onto his head. "Nobody's ever got _that_ far! You're bluffing, I just know it!"

"You know, there's a faster way to beat the boss." She spoke smugly. "Cheat 190."

"How—" he couldn't believe that he was outsmarted by Reagan Holt. _Reagan Holt,_ of all people! "I don't believe you! That cheat's virtually nonexistent! I mean, how could _you_—_you_, of all people!—register Cheat 190?"

"Hah! As if I'd tell you," She spoke, still smug. Dan was suddenly besieged by that stubborn curiosity— the kind of feeling you get when someone has a juicy secret that you just _had_ to know, even if it was pretty evident that they weren't talking.

"Aww, _c'mon!_ Tell me! I've been _dying_ to learn that cheat for _years!_"

"Hah, no way!"

"Tell me!"

"As if!"

"Hey! That's no—" he trailed off as a low rumble caught him by surprise. He glanced at Reagan, who seemed to share the same sentiment as well. "Did you hear that?"

She nodded. "It sounds like rushing—"

Before they knew it, a tide of rushing water engulfed the two of them.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, before you guys say anything, yes; I do support Dan/Reagan. Heck, it's even my OTP! ^^ Just kiddin'. And don't ask me why Jonah's crazy in this chapter. Probably because he didn't get enough limelight in Book 3? XD

Oh, and if you want to see the Cahills in a particular challenge or contest, let me know. Though I already have a set of challenges for the teams, it doesn't hurt to try something new. ^^ As for the What to Do in Case of an Albino Alligator Attack, it's an inside Janus joke. If you have a Janus account, you'll know what I mean. ^^


	4. Second Clue: Las Vegas

**Author's Note:** Oh deaaar.... 'tis been a long time since I've been updating! Well, hopefully everything's gonna be downhill from here. The next challenge has been planned, and I'm thinking of doing an intermission. I'll try updating sooner... but no guarantees! I'm even trying to make a comic, so, well...

Enjoy! ^^

* * *

_Drip, drip, drip…_

A loose drop of water fell into the rushing sewer water, with its dripping echoing into the tunnel. Although morbid as it may be, the dropping water was quite calming in the environment. Tranquil, even—with the drops of water making unassuming ripples onto the furious sewer waters. As they say, "Big things come from little steps."

_FWOOOSH!!!_

Which was albeit, if not entirely, the case of the Cahill clan.

"Dan!" Amy yelled, in amidst of the violent coughing and hacking she was subjected to. Hitting her head on one of the pipes, she was submerged once more into the rushing water that was now filling the cave. The Red Team had been struggling for a while now, some nearly drowning in the waters if they had not been helped by the others. Looking around frantically, Amy's mind spun as she searched for her brother. "Dan! Dan, where are you?!"

"Find an exit!" Ian yelled, struggling to keep himself afloat. Natalie, as refined as she was, was clinging onto her brother for air. Her beautiful red gem-studded outfit had been ruined, and judging by the sour look on her face, she wasn't pleased one bit.

"Ugh!" she groaned in disgust. "How dreadful! I knew we shouldn't have participated in that crazy man's schemes!"

"Reagan! REAGAN!" came the voices of Hamilton and Madison. They'd been yelling at the top of their lungs for hours, obviously guilt-stricken and worried. It was something to note that Madison's voice seemed to be louder than Hamilton's. "Reagan! REE-GAAN!"

"Dan! _Dan!_" Amy cried, with some tears rolling down her cheeks. This wasn't happening, she thought. _No, this can't be happening!_ She couldn't bear to lose Dan, no matter how annoying he was. "_Dan!_ C'mon, Dan… don't do this to me! Dan, where are you!?"

"We can't find an exit!" came the estranged voices of Ned and Ted as they groped the ceiling. The water had reached up to their shoulders, and by the looks of it, the water was rising higher. At this rate, they would be fully submerged in water in a few minutes, and possibly—Amy paled at this thought—they would _drown_. Instinctively, she started looking for Dan like a madwoman. That was the only thing on her mind, and there was nothing that could shake the thought out of her head.

"Dan! DAN!" her yells became louder and louder. If she couldn't find her brother—no, it was better not to think of it. After a while, two figures emerged from the freezing cold water of the sewer—garnering a sigh of relief from Amy and the Holts. The two children were clinging onto each onto each other desperately, with Reagan holding Dan up. Amy eagerly groped towards them against the current, bringing Dan nearer to her.

"Thanks," she whispered, before the Holts claimed Reagan. Hoisting Dan up to her shoulders, the boy began hacking violently. "You okay?"

Still coughing, he looked at her with drowsy eyes. "Took… too much… water…"

Lifting him up more, she looked down—noticing that the water was nearing her chin. "Just hold on."

"No exit!" Ian exclaimed, with his sister holding on to him tightly. The others were groping around frantically for a lid, something that would prevent themselves from drowning. But the water just kept on coming, rushing into their ears and submerging them momentarily. Amy took a quick gulp of air as she held on desperately on to one of the pipes, hoping that Dan was dealing better than she was.

_FWOOOSH!!!_

And with a last breath of air, the group was submerged into the cold depths of the sewer water.

* * *

They say that before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Every minute and second of your life is replayed, either precious or forgettable; dream or reality. It is said that during those final moments, you come to realize what is important—those little pieces of knowledge that you would come to grasp in order that you may die happy. Yet as the water rushed above her head, Amy couldn't help but wonder whether she was going to die or not.

Dan floated beside her underwater, seemingly trying to conserve his breath. He was the only one she could see under the water due to its imminent murkiness—with the others shrouded in the green abyss. Looking up, she watched the water move above her as she made her final thoughts.

_I'm sorry Grace,_ she thought defeatedly. _I failed. I failed mom, dad, the whole family… especially you. I'm sorry I couldn't make you proud of me._

Memories of her deceased Grandmother filled her head, filling her heart with shame. _You will make me proud, Amy,_ her grandmother once said. _I had many adventures, but they will all pale compared to yours._ Everyone said that Amy Cahill was nothing but a nerd, a bookworm, a geek. There was no way she could do great things, and she was beginning to believe this harsh statement as a reality. Perhaps… perhaps Grace was actually wrong _this_ time.

_I can't,_ she thought. _I can't do great things. I'm nothing but a loser._

_My dear,_ came Grace's voice. _Don't put yourself down so much. I believe in you. Your parents believe in you_.

_How can I find the clues when I'm about to die?_ she thought despairingly.

_By being yourself,_ the voice spoke. _For when you believe in yourself, you will be able to find the light in the darkness_.

She didn't know whether it was a trick of the light or a gift of Divine Providence. But just after she stopped hearing her Grandmother's voice in her head, a light shone above her. Her initial thought was that it was the light at the end of the tunnel that you usually see when you're about to die. But looking closer, it was more than that. Closer. And more _life-saving_.

She pressed the top. It moved, though it was quite heavy. Did Grace—?

A lone thought began to flood her mind with some kind of enlightenment, and suddenly she had an uncontrollable urge to survive. Holding onto some rungs she found in spite of the murky water, she bumped the lid with her shoulder. When it budged, she hit it harder. Harder and harder was the impact, until finally, the lid sprung up like a hidden spring. Bringing herself upwards, she inhaled so sharply that her chest hurt and landed onto the hard concrete with a dull _thud!_—something so ordinary that seemed miraculous to her.

Her relief had been cut short though, as she remembered the others that were still trapped down there.

_Dan!_

From above, she could spot the dark blond hair swishing about. With her hand jolting into the water again, she grabbed the boy by the shoulders and heaved him out. Once breathing in oxygen, the boy started to hack violently.

"Easy, easy…" she chanted as she placed the boy facing upwards. Another soul tried coming out of the hole, wriggling like a fish in the water.

"Boy, _that_ was unpleasant!" exclaimed Jonah Wizard, putting himself in Recovery Position. He clutched his chest at the sudden intake of oxygen, looking at Amy. "Good job, cuz."

Some others seemed to have a difficult time pulling themselves out the manhole. Amy scrambled up to them, looking back down at the murky water. Plunging her hands into it, she pulled up 1/3 of the Starling triplets, Ned Starling. Coughing up some water, he wiped his mouth with the hem of his wet shirt. "That, dude," he muttered. "Was _so_ not fun. _At all_."

It wasn't long before the other triplet came up. Ted spewed out some water at his ascent—garnering disgusted looks from the others but a big slap on the back by his brother. It wasn't long until they started laughing like maniacs, high-fiving each other and made a contest about who could spew water farther. Jonah just slapped his forehead at such lunacy. "Seriously, y'all look like you've forgotten that we almost _drowned_ back there!" he scolded, clearly unimpressed.

Natalie was the next person to ascend. After the initial painful breath, she led out a scream that would probably break records. "THAT WAS A CUSTOM-MADE DRESS BY CALVIN KLEIN!" she screamed, looking clearly outraged. Beneath her, it was revealed that Ian carried her to the top.

"Yes, dear sister—but have you ever considered that you did _not_ have a 90 pound burden on your shoulders for at least thirty seconds underwater?" he spoke sarcastically, shooting her a look. "No, I believe_ I_ was the one who did. As well, my Pierre Cardin polo is ruined, moreover." Dropping her to the ground, he got out of the hole with Natalie glaring daggers at him. Amy unconsciously glanced at him—feeling a bit sheepish afterwards at the gesture. The water in the manhole then bubbled, causing much concern within the group above ground.

"Another… alligator?" Dan wheezed, coughing out some more water.

Amy headed once more to the manhole, plunging her arms into its depths. Reagan Holt coughed instantly as she emerged from it; with her other siblings following suit. The impact was so strong that Amy toppled over onto the newly wet concrete. Soon, everyone was lying down.

"All y'all still conscious and breathing say '_Aye!_'" Jonah muttered weakly, with a broken string of 'Aye!' s sounded out shortly afterwards. Ned and Ted brought themselves up slowly, looking at each other in concern. "Uh, guys?" spoke Ned. "Sinead didn't say '_Aye._'"

"Wait," spoke Madison. "Where _is_ the auburn pixie anyway?"

Panic erupted within the group. "Sinead!"

Amy looked at the manhole, face pale. "I—I think she's still down there. M-maybe I can help her."

"It would probably be too risky." Spoke Ian Kabra, moving to Amy's side. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot—both with a fuzzy feeling and irritation. "W-why would you say that?" she muttered softly, hoping he hadn't heard her. She could've sworn she was shaking violently as she tried not to look at him. Not an easy feat for someone like her.

"Weight density. There's a large possibility that if you try to get her out of there you'd be swept back away with the current." Ian spoke as a matter-of-factly. Amy felt herself blush even deeper. And yet, that didn't stop the little twinge in her chest as he made a proposition. Looking at Ned and Ted, the boy sighed before he made his decision. "I'll go get her."

Plunging into the cold depths of the sewer, Ian disappeared into the murky water. For some odd reason, Amy's heart skipped a beat. Reagan scooted a little closer to Dan.

"_He's not up yet,_" she whispered, looking a bit confused. Yet she was right. It seemed like a minute had passed after his murky descent, and Amy was starting to feel worried. _But why,_ she thought sickly. Clasping her hands slowly, she tied to summon up that fateful day when he left her at Pukhansan. The seconds seemed to drag on, and the others were starting to show signs of agitation. Jonah Wizard groaned, furrowing his dark eyebrows.

"Don't tell me we lost _two_ people!" Jonah whined, falling back to the ground with a dull _thud!_. He led out a disgruntled grunt. "And on our way to the next clue too. Stupid Blue Team probably made them big explosion."

Dan coughed up once more, glaring at Jonah. "Don't you _dare_ think Uncle Alistair had something to do with this!"

"Calm down, Dan," Amy coaxed.

Natalie made sure she got involved too, with her face thoughtful. "I doubt what happened underground was of Ekaterina descent. Too stealthy, I should say. Ugh," she whined, pouting. "Blast it, when will that Ian come up! It's been_ eons_ and someone has to back me up with this little theo—"

A gurgle in the water sparked interest within the group. Everyone instantly scrambled near the hole in anticipation, looking at it with wide-eyed looks. At first, the gurgling stopped—leaving a sinking feeling lingering in the atmosphere. But after a while, the water began to bubble—clearing up slowly as dark locks came to play underneath it, slowly rising up like the sun. Everyone backed up as Ian Kabra finally ascended, placing an unconscious Sinead onto the cement before he himself hoisted himself up. Coughing up some water, he took a sharp inhalation before speaking.

"Unconscious," Ian spoke, looking at the group wearily. "Probably activated her survivor's reflex. Excuse me," he spoke, hacking violently. Regaining his composure, he looked up once more. "But she'll be okay. She'll have to rest for a while, though."

"So, do we have to get an ambulance or somethin'?" came Hamilton Holt's inquiry. Natalie looked on, flicking a lock of her hair.

"As I was saying," she spoke, irritated at the intrusion. "The explosion seemed to be of Lucian invention. I infer that Mum and Dad either set the trap, or they probably hired one of the agents to do the job for them. If my hypothesis is correct, I do believe we have to keep everything more… _streamlined_."

"Point taken," spoke Ian Kabra, carrying the unconscious girl. The Holts gave weary glances at each other, then looked at the rest of the group. "Maybe _we_ can help," they spoke simultaneously. Everyone, excluding Amy and Dan, gave looks that yelled "you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me".

"Hey!" Madison yelled. "We don't _care_ if you think we're really that dumb or not, but we actually have a _plan_."

"You're bluffing," Ted Starling spoke back, looking Madison straight in the eyes. They gave each other dirty looks for a long while, until Reagan interrupted. Hamilton was behind her, as if he was there to back her up.

"Hey, if we're gonna be all '_streamlined_' and all that hooey, we hafta at least _lay low_. Ham knows how to drive a car, though it'll be a long way to Las Vegas. Maybe that'll be enough time to, like, get rid of your parents." Reagan spoke, looking at the Kabras. The two siblings looked at each other with wondering looks, then looked back at the girl with an air of finality. It was then when Ian spoke up.

"Perhaps. Well then," he spoke, straightening himself up. "We might as well purchase some items that will be relevant to us if we are to push through with that ruse."

Natalie barely concealed her disgusted cringe. "You're not saying that we actually have to _dress_ like commoners, Ian! I mean, the mere _idea_ of it—"

"Is dreadful, I know." He finished, looking at her. "But if we are to outwit mum and dad, we must use our resources." This garnered an anguished groan from Natalie, who made a barely concealed stomp and huff of irritation as she stood up. "Agh! Dressing up like some mere _city kid?_ _Ludicrous,_ I say! Simply _absurd!_"

"I'll go find a rent-a-car place or somethin'" Hamilton spoke, going into the city limits. He was shortly halted by Jonah Wizard, with a slightly displeased look on his face. "Hey, yo—I provided the jet. So that pretty much gives _me_ the right to drive whatever we's gonna rent."

"I thought we talked about this already!" Reagan yelled.

"Look, man, we don't have much time!" Hamilton spoke, nearly on the rink of sucker-punching the star's face. Clenching his fists, he slammed the air in frustration. "_Fine!_ As long as you can drive an automatic car, you can. Just don't go bumming on me!"

Amy and Dan looked at each other, and as if their minds melded, simultaneously shook their heads.

"Well what're we waiting for?" Ned spoke.

"Las Vegas, _here we come!_" yelled Ted enthusiastically, pointing at the air.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know. Kinda rushed at the end, and I think I turned Hamilton too OOC. Ah, well. Thanks to all those who reviewed, and hopefully I didn't disappoint you guys with this super-late update!


	5. Interlude: The Blue Team and Car Trouble

**Author's Note:** Hoo-ey, THAT was a long break! Yeah, I finally got out of my writing funk. Bah, I hate high school... too many projects. XP SO, without further adieu, I give you another excitng (or not) chapter of...

DUN, DUN, _DUUUN!_

TGCR!!

* * *

Karma had a good way of coming back to you. This was a fact that the Blue Team knew all too-well.

Alistair, who was usually the cool one under pressure, was insanely _furious_. The blow-up in the sewer was a risky technique, and this he had repeated to the team over a million times when it was even _considered_. But _no_, the blasted Lucians just _had_ to go with the plan. Oh sure, just _drown _the poor youngsters who may never make it until their next birthday. Absolutely _exceptional_, Vikram.

"My niece and nephew were down there!" Alistair yelled, which made his face go momentarily purple. "I can't believe that you thought you could just _drown_ them and leave them for dead! This is unacceptable, Vikram! Flooding the sewer—with your own _children_ down there as well? This is madness, I tell you!"

"Relax, old man," Vikram said coolly, not even breaking a sweat. "Ian and Natalie are perfectly capable of these kinds of situations. In fact, they have been _trained_ to adapt."

It seemed as if Alistair wasn't the only one agitated. Sitting across from Isabel Kabra was Cora Wizard, who was looking _exceptionally_ furious. "I swear, you slimy snake, that if my baby got hurt in any way I swear to you Vikram Kabra that I will—"

Mary-Todd sobbed furiously next to her husband. "My poor babies! All wet and cold down there in that big-'ol sewer! And Ham forgot to wear his sweater!"

"Aw, don't go all melodramatic on me, woman!" Eisenhower spoke, clearly irritated. "You're forgetting that they're _my_ children too."

"I agree with the Ekaterina, Kabra," Irina spoke up in her usual military-esque way. "That plan was clearly out-of-hand! Have you forgotten that we're being monitored? If the children are dead, then _we'll_ be suspected of the crime!" _Lose a child and you lose your soul_.

Isabel laughed. "Oh, Irina—did you actually think that we didn't take precautionary measures? Of course we did! Our children are bright enough to handle the whole situation. We simply just delayed them, that's all! Unlike _you_, we actually know how to handle our children. Now," she tapped a finger on her chin mockingly. "What was the name of that cherubic little blond you cared for so dearly? Nikolai, is it?"

Irina gritted her teeth. The Kabras have gotten _too_ far.

"How dare you even speak of—"

"Now, now, Irina," Vikram spoke sinisterly. "Remember, your little friend's father is no longer head of the Lucian clan. We could easily banish you from the branch anytime we want." He smiled after the statement, and Irina knew where Ian got most of his traits from.

Alistair was red in the face, and he opened his mouth about to say something. But they finally arrived at their destination—another manhole located in Manhattan. Alistair groaned. "I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I do believe that the barbarians here would be of use in this endeavor."

"Hey!" Eisenhower yelled. "We're mourning over here, E-_kat!_"

Cora sighed, then shot a look at the Kabras before she bent down to the manhole. "I'm not finished with you yet." She threatened, sliding off the cover with her Pilates-toned arms. Jumping in, the others followed suit—if not unenthusiastically about the little "incident". _It's like losing Hope and Arthur again_, Alistair thought grimly as he was engulfed by the deep abyss.

The team arrived safely, with each individual searching for the clue in an instant. It was nothing personal—just business as usual. They split by branch and searched every nook and cranny, entailing some tactics known exclusively to each branch. Irina's ear caught a low, rumbling sound that seemed to come from behind. She twitched.

"There is an interference," she spoke, looking at her teammates. Everyone seemed to hear it.

Isabel spoke. "It sounds more like a—"

And without warning, they were swept away with the raging current that engulfed them.

* * *

When we previously saw the Red Team, they were supposedly on their way to Las Vegas. But it was not entirely so, mainly due to the fact that they first had to go shopping for clothes.

In his white shirt, Dan was secretly smirking. Amy had once or twice reprimanded him for doing so, but _he just couldn't help it_—and if you were in his position (with power-hungry relatives out to get you and being grouped with the same people who tried to kill you); you'd probably be doing the same thing.

Natalie had a pout the size of Brazil after shopping—which was quite shocking, since it was, well, _Natalie_. But she had a good reason for it, though. Instead of the posh, expensively-tailored outfits she usually wore; she was wearing some blouse she shopped at discount (The horror!), and _jeans_. Yes, you heard me—_JEANS_. Judging by her expression, she clearly felt the indignity of it. "I want to go home, Ian!" she whined, crossing her arms like a bratty little kid. "I can't _stand_ this injustice! These clothes are itchy and hopelessly out-of-style!"

"Ugh. How many times do I have to tell you, Natalie?" Ian spoke, stepping out of the store. He—didn't look like himself, to say the least. He wore a shirt-and-jacket combo with scruffy jeans (He seemed to take it more lightly than his sister), and believe it or not, he actually looked like a… well, _a normal teenage boy_. Take out the suit and you'd think he'd be the boy-next-door living next to you. But even with all that, he still maintained a solid, dignified stance that distinguished him from all the rest. "Since Mum and Dad are joining the race, it's impossible for us to go back."

Ted and Ned came out next, holding articles of girls' clothing. _They_ also looked normal. "What size is Sinead again? A medium or an _extra_-medium?" Ted inquired.

"Um, the last time she forced us to go shopping, I think she bought a _small_…"

A minivan was parked in front of the store, and its horn honked impatiently. The driver's seat window rolled down to reveal an impatient Jonah Wizard, who repetitively honked the horn in agitation. "Get a move on, homies! The _Wizard_ is starting to get really, _really_ impatient! We've gotta get a move to Las Vegas before the _parentals_ arrive!"

"Dude, are you even sure you know how to drive a stick?" Hamilton spoke from the passenger's seat. Yes, the only car they were able to rent just happened to be _manual_. "I mean, it's not like an auto and…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Ham," Jonah spoke waving off his concerns. Hamilton grumbled, mumbling something about how _he_ should've been the one driving. In reality, it was _him_ who drove the van to the store in the first place. The remaining Cahill kids got into the back where they sat by siblings; and the door slid closed with an airy hiss. Amy and Dan occupied the first seat.

"Okay, Jonah," Hamilton instructed. "You have to step on shift and shift it to—"

"Easy there, Holt—I can do this," Jonah spoke, and before they knew it, the van reversed into a telephone pole. The group jolted at the impact with Hamilton scowling.

"I told you to step on shift!"

"Ain't _that_ shift?"

"That was _gas_, you idiot!"

"Whoops! My bad," Jonah spoke with gritted teeth, trying again. The van began speeding forward at a fatal velocity, hurtling towards a mass of cars parked in the parking lot. All the girls (with the exception of an unconscious Sinead) screamed like there was no tomorrow. Hamilton was clearly panicking.

"Hit the break, darnit! Break, BREAK!" he barked out, and nearly an inch far from a yellow Cadillac, the van screeched to a halt. The whole group sighed in relief, and Hamilton wiped some sweat on his brow. He immediately seized the opportunity. "That's it! _I'm_ driving this time!"

Jonah gave him a look of contempt as they switched places. "Well, you could've just _asked_." He muttered inaudibly.

A fight and two referees later, they were finally on the road to Las Vegas—albeit a _crowded_ one, to put it lightly. Hamilton honked furiously at a truck which almost swerved him. "Kumquat!" he yelled, shaking his fist at the driver. Then, looking back at the road, he muttered, "Jerk."

"We'll have to make a beeline for a clinic once we get there," Ian proposed from his seat, arms crossed. "By the looks of it, Sinead seems to be exhibiting signs of hypothermia."

Amy looked at the backseat. Although she usually got headaches whenever she did, this time, she felt considerably fine. Sinead's fingers were turning blue on the tips, and her breathing was fast and shallow—just like the time Amy was forced into racing the school marathon. She didn't look too good.

"Almost near the main road," Hamilton announced, and after a few turns, Amy could make out traces of desert sand. Relaxing into her seat, she closed her eyes—letting the road take them to where they needed to go, letting her thoughts go with the wind for a moment. _Grace_, she thought fervently, interlacing her fingers together. _I wish you were here_.

The sun then sank down the craggy mountains, and seven o' clock arrived.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, hope you enjoyed the intermission. I'll post the REAL chapter once I could snag some spare time, so for the meanwhile, take delight in this badly-written filler. Sorry about the late updates, everyone! I'll do better next time!

-Paite


	6. Second Challenge: Blackjack

**Author's Note:** Ararara. Late update is late. I kinda rushed a bit on the ending, but nevertheless, I hope you like it!

* * *

One of the many mysteries of the world is how a desert could attain such a submerged temperature; mainly, one near that of zero degrees Celsius. But that wasn't much of a concern for the Red Team, oh no—what _was_ important was that they got to Las Vegas in time. Even if it entailed throwing their lives to a teenage driver driving a manual car in the middle of the night. As risky as it was.

They say that when your temperature drops, it usually helps you sleep better. Which, in the case of Amy Cahill, was _definitely_ a fact. The cold nighttime air of the desert was enough to keep the van cooled even if the air conditioners were off (Which was a good thing, considering Sinead's fragile condition.)—sending the girl into a peaceful, relaxed sleep. Aside from the fact that she was with a group of unreliable people, almost everything seemed perfect.

That is, until Hamilton turned on the speakers.

**CAN'T READ MY, CAN'T READ MY**

**NO HE CAN'T READ MY PO-KER FAACE…**

**(SHE'S GOTTA LOVE NOBODY)**

**PO-PO-PO-POKER FACE **

**PO-PO-POKER FACE…**

**(MUM MUM MUM MAH)**

The sheer loudness of the song made her eyes pop in shock._ Definitely_ not appropriate for the situation.

"Mmah…" Amy groaned. "Wha—what was that for?" she spoke groggily, momentarily forgetting that she was in a van full of people who _wanted_ to _kill_ her. Nobody ruins Amy Cahill's sleep and gets away with it. It was a rule even _Dan_ knew.

"Po-po-po-poker face, puh-puh-poker face!" sang Hamilton, ignoring her little grunt of dismay. Jonah leaned back on the passenger seat, looking smug with crossed arms. "Seems like them Tomas has a thing for Lady Gaga!"

"Hey!" Hamilton voiced out defensively. "Try driving a manual for five straight hours and see if _you_ don't sing to whatever's on the radio!"

"Guys, stop it!" Amy chided, sounding irritable. "It's the middle of the night!"

"Well, looky here," Jonah spoke, as if he noticed Amy for the first time. "Cahill's awake. _Dang_," he continued, a little smirk playing on his face. "You don't look too good. Seems like you've turned into Frankenstein's wife with that red-eye thing you've got going on. Heck, y'all don't need a makeup artist!"

Amy just yawned, plopping back onto her seat. She was too tired to feel insulted.

"Guess we woke up Sleeping Beauty from her beauty sleep," Hamilton spoke with a slight mock, yawning afterwards. He looked albeit irritable. "Well isn't that something _I'd_ like."

"I told y'all, it's _my_ turn to drive."

"Heck no," Hamilton retorted. "You'd probably wreck the car by crashing into it into some… _cactus_."

"Speak for yourself, _Tomas_."

"Hey, _who_ crashed the car into a telephone pole?"

Amy just looked on at their constant bickering. Oddly, it was starting to seem _normal_ for a while—something that she was actually starting to get used to, and the thought of it surprised her. Maybe it was because she was pulled out of probably the best sleep she would ever have, but Jonah and Hamilton's bickering seemed like some ordinary fight; _not_ a serious schism between two rival branches of Cahills. The thought stunned her for a moment, until she took notice of the beaming lights up ahead.

"Hey," she spoke weakly. "I think—I think I could actually see Las Vegas from here!"

The two guys looked at front instantly, staring intently at the flashing lights up ahead. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle," Jonah mused. His eyes sparkled with his over-eagerness once more. "Amigos, we have arrived!" he announced, almost _too_ loudly. His voice rivaled that of the speakers, so it wasn't much of a mystery why the others had woken up on the spot. They seemed a little groggy too.

"Five more minutes, dad," Reagan mumbled, sucking on her thumb. "I just need… to tackle the… _flying pillow monster_…"

Natalie 'hmph!'-ed in contempt. "Well isn't that _mature?_" she spoke sarcastically. Ian folded his arms a bit, giving her a look of irritation. "Your words speak for you, sister," he spoke, garnering a death glare from his sister.

Ted yawned. "Is—is there a clinic nearby?" he spoke softly, with his triplet rubbing his eyes tiredly. Sinead was still in a hypothermic state, with her eyes closed shut. Hamilton looked forward, trying to avoid the glare the beaming lights had brought out.

"Nothing I could see. But there's a—huh?!"

The van jolted violently to the side, with the others spilling out of their seats. Amy landed on her elbow painfully, with the others trying to recover from the shock of it all. Dan, who was the last to wake up, had a nervous look in his eye. "What the heck just happened?"

"Holt, what did y'all just do?" Jonah spoke frantically.

"Nothing! I just—"

The van jolted violently again. Ned and Ted held on to their sister to prevent her from falling, while Madison and Reagan piled on top of each other at the movement. Amy felt herself slide nearer to the side of the van, crashing into someone at the back. Her head hit the bottom of the said person's chin.

"Sorry!" she apologized, feeling a warm hand on her shoulder. She froze.

"No need."

Automatically, she scrambled up her seat to be as far away from Ian Kabra as possible. Ian himself stood himself up; looking out the window with squinted eyes. "It's not Hamilton, all right," he spoke over the wind. "Someone's trying to throw us off-course!"

Of course, Dan _had_ to see this for himself. Looking out his window, Dan saw a grappling hook fastened indiscreetly onto the van's bunker. Even in the darkness, he could make out a glinting insignia embossed near the base of the hook itself. _Kabra_.

"I knew it!" Natalie whined. "I knew Mum and Dad would try something like this!"

Ian gritted his teeth. "Blast it all…" he looked at the others with a furious look in his eyes. "Isn't there anything? Absolutely anything? A crowbar, or something of the sort?"

A sudden force brought all of them forward. The grappling hook was beginning to do what it was meant to do—that is, to _lift_ them up. The metal claw was beginning to bring the minivan higher at an alarming velocity, and the others in the van began to look frantically around for anything that could be of use. Hamilton floored the gas as hard as he could, and Jonah dove into the back to help with the seemingly aimless search. He muttered something in garbled gibberish.

"_Dangdangdangdang_… ain't there _anything_ useful in this stupid piece of junk?!" Jonah yelled, scouring even underneath the seats. Amy looked up, noticing the rhythmic beating of helicopter propellers. Grabbing Dan, she pointed upwards.

"Hey! That really—"

"Can you see that?" Amy spoke, ignoring Dan's protest. He looked up, raising his eyebrow like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"It's a helicopter. So?"

"Remember those physics games Grace used to play with us? The ones with trajectory and inertia?" Amy spoke, hints of agitation ever present in her tone. "What's the correct angle to use to hit that hook hard enough to deploy it?"

Dan looked at his sister as if she spoke in gibberish. But upon further investigation of the scene, the gears in his brain began to turn. Looking at Amy, he nodded in understanding. "Got it. I just need something to—" He spotted the ball of tin the Holt twins made out of crushing tin cans along the journey. Without warning, he jumped over the others and snatched it out of their seats.

"And what are you gonna do with that, wimp?" Madison bellowed. Dan ignored her completely and began to aim it towards the grappling hook.

"Saving our necks, that's what."

Dan was never known to be a good pitcher. But luckily, the universe cooperated with him completely—and as he threw the ball, it hit the grappling hook just where he wanted it. The grappling hook was deployed, and the van lurched as the bottom fell to the ground with a crash. Hamilton speeded up the car in a twinkling, and Dan thrust his head outside.

"Dang, these dudes are persistent! The helicopter's still there!" he exclaimed, looking at the group. A look of loss came upon them as the car speeded down the highway, no idea forming in their heads.

Natalie was still scouring her handbag for anything useful. At long last, she held up a tube of lipstick as if it was the best thing that could ever happen in a lifetime. "There it is! I've been looking for this all morning!" she spoke with her eyes sparkling, garnering an instant glare among the others.

"There's no time to put on your fancy-schmancy makeup there, Ice Queen," jeered Reagan, which garnered a glare from Natalie as well. Natalie then headed towards the window, opening the tube.

"I am not accessorizing, you dolt. This happens to be Level Five state-of-the-art Lucian weaponry." Natalie stated, aiming for the base of the helicopter. Like a professional sniper, she twisted the lipstick tube with a bullet shooting towards the craft—with the helicopter exploding on impact. All those unfamiliar with Lucian weaponry gaped at the sight.

Natalie, with a smirk that rivaled her brother's, blew on the smoke that was being emitted from the lipstick tube. "And they say you can't be beautiful and clever at the same time."

The Holt twins stuck their tongues out at her.

"People," Hamilton announced, getting over the initial shock or the air assault. He slicked back his sharkfin-styled hair as a comforting gesture, leaning back at the people in the back seats. "We have arrived."

"_I_ was supposed to say that!" Jonah chided.

* * *

Las Vegas, to say the least, was a city of lights.

Crazy flashy ones, to say the least.

As the van glided through the millions of people who came there on a daily basis, Dan couldn't help but gasp. In the darkness, the lights flourished like a million stars linked together—that is, if stars came in different colors. Dudes in funky outfits gathered at one corner for some cosplay convention; some resembling famous anime characters that often showed during Saturday mornings. Others came out and in casinos, expecting easy money to come along the way. Dan couldn't help but poke his head into all the fun.

"Awe-some," he spoke, grinning cheekily. Amy, on the other hand, winced at the sight of some statuette of a showgirl.

"Sin City indeed," she muttered to herself.

"Sinead's breathing is getting shallower," squeaked Ted, putting his hand on Sinead's head in a brotherly way. She _still_ didn't show any signs of improvement. "I think we'll need to find a place to stay for the night."

"We'll be heading for the Casino Royale," Ian spoke, analyzing the hologram once more. At the bottom right corned of the pack of cards, the insignia for the aforementioned casino/motel was inscribed in tiny font. "I have a feeling that what we're looking for could be located there. Otherwise, at least we'd have _some_ kind of accommodation."

"Dude, you don't even have to _tell_ me that," Hamilton spoke, a triumphant smile playing on his face. "We're already here."

In an instant, everyone looked at where Hamilton was looking.

The Casino Royale was a massive structure, with its name inscribed in bold, bright letters. Themed as a European Villa, the casino/hotel _definitely_ earned its name. The neon lights burned a dark orange, and the name shone like a beacon in the night. Amy blinked twice, looked back again, then looked at Dan. "Am… am I still sleeping?"

Dan smiled back. "Nah. This is the real thing."

As the group entered the hotel/casino, the sight of the younger ones caused a little commotion. But, as calmly as he could, Jonah reasoned that the younger ones were merely "their babysitting wards" that their "parents made them take care of". This was followed by some reluctant nods in reassurance, as well as a forced group hug (which Amy didn't fare well at.). It wasn't a wonder why Jonah got a nasty kick in the shin by Madison Holt afterwards.

"We'll take care of Sinead in the room," Ned announced as him and his triplet headed for their room. "We'll try calling some meds just to check how S's faring so well."

"Very well. Do what you must." Ian replied, and the triplets headed towards their guest room. As they disappeared into the hall, the group then decided to make a thorough search of the lobby for anything that could be related to the clues. This was taken nicely, since it slightly eliminated the chance of everyone going as group. And with the new rivalry between Hamilton and Jonah surfacing, this was a very, _very_ good move.

"Ugh. Blocked," spoke Natalie, peering into her diamond BlackBerry. "Mummy must've cut off my high-scale satellite surveillance. This thing is _rubbish!_"

The Holts scoured every nook and cranny for something. A little trouble occurred when Hamilton accidentally entered the Girl's Lavatory as he searched, but no major casualties. Jonah then slumped into a couch, with his look a mix of irritation and exhaustion. "Dang, I'm starting to think that this here is just some run-of-the-mill wild goose chase or somethin'. I can't find anything suspiciou—"

Then, like magic, a man from the lobby approached them. Burly and cold-looking, he reeked of cigars and persistence. "Hey, are y'all them Cahills McIntyre wuz talkin' about?" The man spoke, keeping a poker face. Amy gulped at the sight of him.

Jonah, on the other hand, wasn't a bit impressed. "Right. Yeah, we're the Cahills, alright."

The man eyed each and every one of them, as if he was gaping into their very souls. As tough as each of them was, the gesture was enough to unnerve even the most inconspicuous of them. Even Ian and Natalie weren't spared of this discomfort. Noticing this, the burly man gestured them to follow him through the main hallway—which none dared to defy. It was as if a sinister aura had engulfed this man, which gave a sense of authorization over the others.

Or maybe it was because of his large stature. Meh. Go figure.

Following the man, they were lead towards a door cleverly concealed by one of the hotel/casino curtains. Etched upon a good surface of it was a yellow dragon spewing fire—a sure-tell insignia of the Ekaterina. Momentarily, each of the teammates looked at each other in uncertainty; unable to discern what was best for the situation. The man looked at them sternly.

"Well? Which one of you's a friggin' Ekat?" he barked, sending shivers of fear amongst the group. Nobody dared spoke a word. The man snorted. "Ain't gonna talk, are ya? Well, go figure." He pointed at the Holts. "Y'all are friggin' Tomases," He pointed at the Kabras. "Y'all are friggin' Lucians," He pointed at Jonah. "And what do you know? Y'all the lone son of the friggin' head of the Janus. But no friggin' Ekat, ey?"

With as much dignity as he could, Dan replied. "No, sir."

The man let out a sneer. "No Ekat? Go fig. 'Least that's _one_ less of a person tryin' to give the Casino a run for their money. Well then," he turned to Amy, whose fear was ever-present in her eyes. She flinched as the man leaned towards her, taking a hold of her jade necklace. "I guess _y'all_ will hafta come with me."

Amy was stunned. "M-Me?"

The group seemed to share her sentiments. "HER?"

The man shot a look. "Got any problem wid dat, punks?"

The group quieted down.

Opening the hidden doorway, the man revealed a blackjack table—with seven burly men who had the same rock-hard expressions, not seeming to find humor in anything. The man entered the table and positioned himself as the dealer, giving Amy a hard stare. She seemed to pale on the spot.

"B-B-But you must be mistaken! I—I'm not an Ekat! I—I don't even know what branch I'm in!" she pleaded, with some members commenting about her statement. A cold frost touched her nape as she heard affirmations about how she and Dan were _the only ones_ who _didn't_ know their branch, which made her confidence level drop lower. And it didn't help that the man gave her a hard glare at that precise moment.

"Oh yeah? Then why do y'all have a friggin' dragon on your necklace, hmm?"

The thought hit her like lightning. Why _was_ there a dragon on her necklace? Her thoughts raced back to the time when she and Dan had attempted to escape from Grace's burning mansion—how _dragons_ had guided them on their way out. Was Grace…?

"Well," the man continued. "Ekat or ain't, y'all still gots to do the challenge. Approach them blackjack table."

"_Blackjack?_" Dan spoke in disbelief. "Amy can't play a single card game!"

Amy's face turned hot with embarrassment. "I—I can play card games! You were just too young to remember!"

"Yeah right!" Dan spoke, not taking the bait. This irritated Amy to a certain degree that she stomped angrily towards the table, forgetting her nervousness for a moment. Dan was _not_ going to embarrass her in front of their teammates. She _could_ play a card game, thank you very much. The man smirked at her decision.

"Seems like the lil' lady's in the game, folks. Darn straight. Now, all them rules are simple—whoever gets the highest value takes everything. Even," he looked at them with an eerie gleam in his eye. "The Clue."

The others began to protest violently; saying that the whole thing was a ruse, unfair, or that Amy should be replaced. But nevertheless the dealer belittled their concerns—all with a snicker that dashed all their hopes to the ground. This gave Amy a more stronger drive to win… even if her opponents could possibly kill her. With a nervous gulp, she slowly pushed the thought aside. The dealer gave each and everyone a look of determination.

"'Right, everybody—place your bets!"

Amy decided to go with the flow and bet two chips. The dealer then gave her the cards, with the others receiving them with poker faces. "Hit," spoke one of the men, waving towards himself. Another player put two more chips next to his original bet, with the dealer splitting the cards.

_Alright. You can do this Amy_, she thought to herself. Currently, she had a Royal and a seven—a safe enough hand. She looked back at the deck of cards the dealer was holding, reminiscing that day when she was six years old. She never forgot those days when her father taught her the tricks of the trade in card games; during the times when she was bored and her dad had come early from work. _Remember, Amy_, he had told her. _The trick is to guess which card comes next. Examine your opponent. Look at the deck of cards. You'll find out the weakness sooner or later_.

"Stand," she spoke, waving her hand horizontally. The others were done with their cards, some hitting and some doubling down. The dealer still kept a poker face.

"Seventeen," he spoke, and two men slammed their cards on the table. They had lost the game.

"Well, darn tootin'—the young lady's still in the game. Alright. Let's crank this up a notch." The dealer spoke, and the remaining players made their bets. Amy squirmed in her seat a bit, relieved that she was still in the game. Analyzing her surroundings, her eyes played on the deck of cards; then afterwards, her opponents' cards. Some kind of pattern was beginning to form in her head, and for a moment, she saw the weakness. One of the players caught her gaze.

"Eyes off the cards, missy," he warned, with a dangerous gleam in his eye. Gulping, she turned away in an instant. The calls were made again.

"Hit!"

"Stand!"

"Split!"

The dealer revealed his cards and the two men slammed theirs down in defeat. It was only the dealer and Amy now, and her stomach was in a tight knot. This made the dealer's day, judging by the smirk playing on his features. "Well, it's just you 'an me now, missy."

"Amy," whispered Dan. "You gotta be careful! The dealer _cheats!_ He hides cards inside his sleeves!"

Looking at the dealer's sleeves, she could see an ace poking out for a moment. She was really afraid now. Thanks for the warning, Dan. It was absolutely _perfect_ for the occasion. With quivering hands, she made the bet. The dealer smiled sinisterly, with a flash of gold coming from a tooth. Giving her a card, she bit her lip.

A two and a five. _Nice_.

"Hit," she spoke, making the appropriate hand gesture. She received another five, and her heart began to beat wildly. It still wasn't enough.

"Think you could still make it, missy?" the dealer spoke, a mocking glance upon her. "Y'all ain't looking too good. Maybe you should just surrender—"

"No," she spoke plainly. Fierce determination was in her eyes. "I'm not quitting."

"Well then, y'all just dug yourself an early grave." He spoke, placing additional chips next to his original bet. "Double down."

_You can do it_, she reassured herself. You can do it. _Dad always said that there were risks with these kinds of card games, and you know that. Just find a weakness. Anything. Just observe_. Looking at the dealer, she counted the cards on the deck secretly; then looked at her own hand. There was a half-half chance that she would get the card she needed—but she had to take the risk. Otherwise, the clue would be lost forever.

"Hit," she spoke again, and the dealer placed a card on her table. Her heart squeezed in joy.

"So, gots any good hand, missy?" the dealer spoke, looking at her in a belittling way. Amy placed her cards down gently, with a slight flash of indignance in her eyes.

"Blackjack."

Gasps were heard all around the room. The dealer, _definitely_ fuming, stood up in disbelief. "Y'all cheated, I just know it! You must've counted the cards, haven't y'all!" He then took out what seemed to be a Colt Python .357 Magnum revolver from his loaded belt and aimed it dangerously at her. "No one _ever_ beats them dealer! I am the best friggin' dealer in the darn-tootin' universe! Y'all ain't coming out alive!"

"Need I remind you," spoke a silky voice from behind her. She stiffened as she heard a distant click behind her, not bothering to note the boy standing next to her. "That we have _much_ to accomplish, whilst you fume at some personal defect. You must know that I myself am quite good with my aim."

The dealer froze, with his blanched complexion turning paler. When confronted with Lucian weaponry, one must set his personal boundaries. "Ahehe… of course, sonny. Here's y'all clue." He spoke, handing Ian the card. The boy snatched it graciously and put down the dart gun; nodding politely. "I'm glad that you see things my way, good sir. Have a lovely evening."

The man muttered some vulgar words as the team filed out the room, with Amy exiting quite stiffly. Having an encounter with _any_ gun was definitely _not_ her cup of tea.

Dan, (and pretty much the others) on the other hand, was quite amazed. "How'd ya do it, Amy? Seriously, you kicked butt on the blackjack table! I thought you didn't gamble!"

Amy's face turned red at the mere thought of it. "I do _not_ gamble!"

"Yeah, right," Reagan teased, walking in step with her siblings. When Amy's face reddened even more, the younger Holt twin laughed mockingly and went in front of everyone else. "The nerd's a gambler! Who knew?"

"Forget about her," Dan spoke, looking at Amy eagerly. "Really! How the heck did you do that?"

Amy was contemplative for a moment. She looked at Dan, how he was so good with numbers, how he looked so much like Dad, how he probably would've wanted to know more about him—and smiled. Maybe Dan should know. He'd probably like the memory as well.

"Dad taught me," she spoke softly. "When I was six. You were too young to understand the rules, so Dad used to play card games with me. Taught a lot of nifty card tricks, too."

Dan's eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"Well—"

"Houston, we have a problem." Came the dismayed voice of Jonah Wizard. He looked at the rest of the group with an uncomfortable look in his eyes, as if something bad was about to befall them. "Well, dudes, seems like we have… _room problems_."

"What _kind_ of room problems, Janus?" spoke Natalie, looking rather tired. Going through some blackjack game while standing up was _not_ good for a Lucian heiress. It didn't help that she was feeling irritable. Jonah just scratched his head.

"Well, since we've gotta be inconspicuous and all that hooey, seems like we're gonna… uh… _share the same room_."

* * *

**A/N:** I think I made the blackjack scene innacurate. If there's something off about the story, please let me know! Constructive criticism is the best form of criticism! Whoo, I'm in a rush! -runs-


	7. Interlude: Room Doom and Missing People

The room contained two queen-sized beds and three wardrobes, looking perfectly pristine upon the group's entrance—save for the tiny sheet of paper with Ted's writing scrawled on it on the bed covers. But aside from that, everything seemed perfectly, _undoubtedly_ in order.

Then again, there _was_ the painfully shrill scream of Natalie Kabra, who, in fact, was turning red in the face in fury at that exact moment.

"_**WIIIIIZAAAAAAAARD!!!**_" she raged, tearing at the superstar's shirt with the animosity of a stampeding bull. "I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU HAD THIS COVERED! I THOUGHT WE HAD **AGREED** THAT I WOULD HAVE A SEPARATE, QUEEN-SIZED BEDROOM WHILE THE REST OF YOU HOOLIGANS **ROT** IN THIS HEN-HOUSE!"

"Whoa, Nat, calm down!" Jonah spoke, stunned at the sudden tirade. "This lil' stunt's just gonna last for one day! It'll be over with before you could say—"

"I DON'T CARE!" Natalie screeched. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHATEVER LUDICROUS CONSOLATION YOU TRY TO REASSURE ME WITH!" Her voice began to grow hoarse as her shouting grew louder. She angrily jabbed a finger at his chest, eyes burning with infinite _hatred_. "I HAVE SPENT PRECIOUS **MINUTES** STANDING UP IN SOME—**PEASANT'S** SHOES—WATCHING SOME **STUPID** GAME WHEN I COULD BE BACK HOME DOING COUNTLESS OTHER THINGS THAT WOULD ACTUALLY **BENEFIT** MY TIME! SO DON'T YOU **DARE** TELL ME THAT AFTER **DEGRADING** MYSELF TO **THE LOWEST OF THE LOW** THAT I WOULD ACTUALLY HAVE TO **SLEEP**—MOREOVER **STAY** IN THE SAME **ROOM** AS YOU MISCREANTS—LIKE THE **FILTHY**, _**ROTTEN**_ LITTLE PIGS THAT YOU ALL—"

"And I say that's enough, little sister." Spoke Ian, grabbing Natalie by the collar and dragging her to a remote corner in the room. Natalie tore at the air, looking at Jonah in a way a killer would confront his victim. "Seriously, you are forgetting your _poise_." Ian continued, undoubtedly annoyed to his limits.

"Heh, I don't _care_ if I have to share a room with you losers," Hamilton said wearily, heading towards the nearest bed in a zombie-like manner. "Just give me five… twelve hours… of slee—"

And before he could finish his sentence, Hamilton flopped onto the soft bed and fell asleep instantly.

"Hey!" Jonah protested, temporarily forgetting that he almost had his eyes ripped out a minute ago. "That there is _my_ spot!"

"Leave it to rest, Jonah," Amy chided, with a newfound confidence found within herself after the game. "He deserves the bed. After all, he's been driving us for _hours_ without sleep!"

"Oh, and so you're saying that you and your brother _also_ deserve the bed?" Jonah retorted, snapping towards Amy. "Just because the both of you have been leading the race ever since it started? Huh?"

"Hey, don't you _dare_ talk to my sister like that!" Dan yelled, instinctively going in front of her. He could feel her going tense at Jonah's accusation.

"Would the both of you just _quit it?!_" came the voice of Madison, whose face was contorted in a scowl. "It's the middle of the night!"

"Look, Jonah," Amy spoke, with her voice slightly shaking. "Hamilton's had a rough night. We still got the Starling Triplets to worry about, and not to mention that we've got _eleven-year-olds_ on deck."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" came Dan's protest.

Amy waved the comment aside. "I know it's hard to settle past conflicts. But right now, we're working as a team. You, me, Hamilton, the triplets and…" she paused for a moment. "… _Kabra_ are the eldest ones here. We're supposed to cooperate, not fight each other."

"So what's this gotta do with me?" Jonah spoke defiantly.

"We've gotta plan our moves right this time, not just to win the race, but to make sure _everyone_ gets out of this faux race alive." Amy spoke in all seriousness. This was a first for Amy Cahill. "Now, if _you_ want to get out alive, you'd best be pulling your weight."

"Alright, alright! Fine. I get what you mean," Jonah spoke, still heated up. "What's your proposition then?"

"We have two families of three in our team," Amy explained, pointing at the beds. "And both of them have a member in some sort of condition. So the Holts and the Starlings will stay on the beds, while the rest of us will have to sleep on the floor. Anyway, the floor is carpeted so it shouldn't be much of a problem."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Dan protested. "Amy, you're letting people who tried to _kill us_—I repeat, _kill us_—live the comfortable life while we're back to being the underdogs and—"

"Dan, shush!" Amy warned.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Natalie piped up, with nails biting into the white bed linens. "DO YOU REALLY **EXPECT** THAT I'D SLEEP ON SOME **CHEAP RUG** CLAIMING TO BE OF PERSIAN DESCENT?! I'LL HAVE YOUR **HEAD** FOR THIS ONE!"

"Natalie, _please_." Ian spoke in disgust, holding her down. "_I'll_ handle this one. Amy," he spoke, and Amy lost focus for a while. It was when Dan nudged her in the ribs that she regained focus and kept her ground.

Ian continued, walking towards her effortlessly. "You must be misinformed. If you haven't forgotten, Natalie and I are _Lucians_. Natural-born leaders." He spoke, stopping an inch away from her. Her body turned hot once more, yet with Dan's prodding, she stood her ground.

"You don't need to stress yourself on subjects like these, love. Things like these should be in the hands of those more _capable_, don't you agree?" he spoke, combing two fingers through her hair. At once she slapped his hand at the gesture—with a force strong enough to force him to retract it in pain. Dan beamed a proud smile, hissing a victorious _Yes!_

"_Go Amy,_" he whispered.

"Even natural born leaders have their biases," she spoke firmly, ending her sentence in time to stop the forming stutter in her mouth.

* * *

And so it came to be that the two families of three would sleep on the beds, while the others made themselves comfortable on the floor. [This was also instigated with the help of the Holt twins, Madison and Reagan.]

Jonah leaned at the side of the Starlings' bed as he bobbed his head to the music booming through his earphones, while the now-present Starlings stayed close to each other—with Ned and Ted keeping a close eye on Sinead as usual. Earlier they had taken her to a doctor who conveniently had his quarters in the hotel for checking, and they were informed that she would need to recuperate for a few days.

Meanwhile, Ian and Natalie placed their territory at the corner farthest away from the others—with both siblings fast asleep. After having drugged Natalie to sleep with some mild poison he found stashed in her bag, Ian refused to mingle with the others until he finally fell prey to sleep's heavy toll. The momentarily isolation may have been out of a battered ego, yet nevertheless, the boy took the reason for it with him into the depths of Dreamland.

Amy found herself wide awake after standing up to the other older Cahills, the excitement of it all still rushing through her veins. Her cheeks were slightly flushed at the embarrassment that was beginning to make itself known, with various accusations at herself being thrown all throughout the corners of her mind. How could she be so impulsive? How could she be so… _stupid?_

Looking at the others, she noticed how they were minding their own business—even _Dan_ was busy scouring the room for items he could collect, although she _specifically_ instructed him not to. They were people of different views, different lives, different branches—and as Natalie would say, it would be simply _ludicrous_ to think that she could actually stand up to them all.

Well, except for _Dan_, but he was her brother. He didn't count.

Still leaning on the balcony of the room, she gripped the railing tightly as if to punish herself. _I won't fall asleep_, she told herself as she looked at the moon. For a moment, she didn't want to face the world, to face reality—all she wanted was to stare at the moon, as if she could disappear if she did, as if _it_ could punish her for those nonexistent mistakes she blamed herself for in her mind.

_I. Won't. Sleep._

It had probably been an hour and a half before she began to feel drowsy. Dan had fallen asleep long past, and her grip on the railing was starting to fail her. Thirty more minutes had passed before she kneeled near the railing, still gripping the railing with fierce determination.

_I. Won't. Sleep._

Fifteen more minutes had passed, and she began to yawn uncontrollably. The last thing she saw before she finally fell asleep was still the moon, its glow no longer harsh—but loving, like the last person who loved her.

_Grace._

* * *

"SHE'S GONE!"

The mere volume of the voice was enough for Amy to jolt out of her deep [and not to mention _wonderful_] sleep. In the process, she hit her head on one of the ceramic moldings that decorated the railing; accidentally making her fall over her pajama bottoms.

"Ow," she muttered, looking back at the window leading to the balcony. She could see the others rushing about, tearing through the bed linens and pillows. Confused, she slid back the window and went over to where all the ruckus was.

"Holt, aren't sure you didn't just _misplace_ her?" came Jonah, flinging the pillows onto the floor. "I mean, y'all _are_ forgetful at times…"

"Shut up, Wizard," Hamilton spoke, opening the wardrobes. "I don't have time for your wisecracks!"

"Ugh, being woken up at two in the morning for _this_ rubbish?" Natalie spoke sleepily, daintily tossing some pillows aside as she rubbed her eyes. "How absurd."

"Wh-what's going on here?" Amy spoke in confusion, attracting Dan's attention. He momentarily paused from turning over one of the mattresses.

"Oh, hey Amy." He spoke casually, still preoccupied by what he was doing. "Didn't see you this morning. Where'd ya sleep?"

Amy rubbed her eyes, yawning. "At the balcony."

This attracted everyone's attention, which momentarily distracted them from what the bedroom raid. Everyone looked at her in surprise, and everything was so quiet that you could hear a cricket chirping.

"You _slept_ at the balcony?" came the astonished inquiry of Hamilton Holt.

Amy blushed at all the attention she was receiving. "Oh, d-don't mind me! J-Just continue what you g-guys were doing!"

And, like clockwork, everyone resumed to raiding the room.

"Ohh, darnit!" Madison cursed as she threw an abused pillow to the ground. "We can't find her anywhere! She must've run away again, the little mouse!"

"This ain't Milwaukee, Maddie!" Hamilton spoke, raiding the drawers. "And she doesn't know anything about Las Vegas, either. Doubt she'd be running around some place she hasn't been to before." He continued, pulling out one of the drawers. In it contained articles of pink undergarments.

He tilted the drawer at Natalie. "Um, is this yours?"

Natalie's sleepy expression turned into one of red-faced embarrassment as she snatched the drawer from Hamilton's hands. "Don't do that again." She muttered disdainfully.

Madison threw down some covers angrily. "Well, she _always_ runs away, that's for sure."

"Wha-what's happening?" Amy inquired in concern. "Who's missing?"

"Reagan Holt," Ian spoke without hesitation, turning over some picture frames. "And we've been searching for her since morning."

"I told you, SHE RAN AWAY." Madison spoke spitefully. "She always runs away when she doesn't like something. Hmph. Probably got all pressured and didn't want to continue the hunt anymo—"

_**I didn't run away, you idiot.**_

At the voice, everyone turned to see where the source was. Yet, to their surprise, the voice seemed to have come from the most unthinkable of all sources: Ian Kabra's pocket.

"_Eew,_" Dan spoke, wincing in disgust.

Casually, Ian took the sleek blue BlackBerry from his pocket as he shot a disgusted look at Dan. "Oh, _please_. Don't make such outrageous conclusions. " he spoke coolly, facing the screen at the others. A clear picture of Reagan Holt lit the screen dimly, yet it was clear enough nevertheless. Her face turned from a look of displeasure to one of relief.

_**Oh, thank God… you guys finally picked up!**_ she spoke, a small smile etching across her face. Everyone looked amazed, especially big brother Hamilton.

"Reagan, what the heck are you doing there?!" he spoke in astonishment.

_**Well if you're worrying about my welfare, I'm just peachy, thank you very much.**_ she spoke sarcastically, clearly annoyed about their lack of concern for her safety. She looked at the others dryly. _**Anyway, for those who were wondering: I'm here because it involves the next challenge**_.

"Challenge?" Amy spoke in bewilderment.

_**Bingo. I'm currently at some location I can't disclose, but what I **__**can**__** say is that you need to find me in time to get to the next clue**_.

"Find you?" Madison spoke.

_**Uh-huh. Find me. For this challenge, one person from each team is abducted and taken to a remote area, where the remaining members have to employ various tactics in order to locate the member's whereabouts. All this needs to be done within a specified time limit, or else the clue is lost.**_

"Whoopdee-doo. Reagan's took to speakin' fancy." Madison mocked. Reagan scowled.

_**Hey, I heard that! F-Y-I, the **__**dude**__** made me say it!**_

"Shush! You're not supposed to say that!" came a hoarse voice from behind her. Everyone leaned in closer to the screen.

"Who was that?" Dan spoke, with Reagan looking at the side in reproach. She seemed to be looking at someone who didn't appear on the screen.

_**A-Ah, th-that was no one. Anyway, you guys only have three days to retrieve me.**_

"Three days, huh?" Natalie spoke with a smug smile. "Perhaps we should just _leave_ her there. I, for one, would consider that just _heavenly_."

Reagan scowled. _**Aw, shut up Ice Queen**_.

"Okay, so we gotta rescue you from… _wherever you're at_, in three days. Uh, ahem," Jonah spoke, looking at the group. "Aaaaand… _that's_ where we have a problem."

"Now what exactly gave you _that_ predicament, Janus?" Ian spoke dryly, looking at Jonah.

"Ding-dong, _Lucy,_" Jonah spoke as he wagged his finger in a derogative manner. "Sinead Starling's still recovering from hypothermia, which _preeetty much_ eats up our time to save Reagan. And we can't leave 'em Starling triplets alone here in Vegas, since them Blue Team might catch up with 'em and do Heaven-knows-what. Someone's gotta stay with 'em."

"Then what?" Ian retorted. "Are you saying we should split up into two groups to satisfy both needs?"

"And… PING! The Lucian's got it!"

At that statement, everyone looked at each other for a viable candidate. The Holts gave each other uneasy stares, and Dan and Amy refuted the thought in an instant. The Kabra siblings then looked at each other thoughtfully, then looked back.

"Then I'll stay with the Starlings." Ian spoke, folding his arms. Although the others didn't give a second thought to his decision, Amy tried to fight a growing uneasiness inside of her. As much as she despised the Kabra boy, the idea of him staying with the Starlings caused her an unnecessary twinge of discomfort.

_Stop being concerned about him,_ she told herself angrily.

"Very noble of you, cuz." Jonah spoke smugly, smacking him at the back endearingly. This seemed to cause him minor discomfort, since he wrapped an arm around his chest shortly after Jonah hit him.

"And _I'll_ stay with this group," spoke Natalie, flipping her hair. "Since it's obvious to me that you'll be needing a _first-class Lucian_."

Dan made a choking gesture, to which Natalie caught with a reprimanding glare.

"Oh, don't be hypocritical. You'll be needing a Lucian in the next set of challenges, _if_ you haven't forgotten." Natalie spoke coldly.

"You'll be needing this, Lucy," Jonah spoke, handing Ian something that seemed like a beeper. "Contact us if the little miss's doin' fine and I'll send in the jet."

"Erm, thanks," Ian replied curtly. Exchanging the device with his BlackBerry, he gave Jonah a final warning glance. "Oh, and please—do _not_ call me Lucy."

Jonah just laughed it off. "Whatever, _Lucy_."

Ian groaned in repulsion.

"C'mon guys," Hamilton spoke, gesturing at the door. "The minivan's just outside the entrance and we can't keep sissy waiting!"

_**Hurry up, guys!**_ Reagan spoke. _**I need to go to the bathroom really, **__**really**__** badly!**_

"Back to peasant clothes and horrid transportation." Natalie lamented. "Can't I make a last-minute decision to switch sides with Ian?"

"You're too young, Nat." Jonah spoke as they went outside the doorway in a single file. Natalie just groaned in response. "Well, we'd best be on our way! To infinity, and…_wherever_ the heck we need to go."

"Seatbelts, guys," Hamilton spoke as he put the key into ignition. "This is gonna be a bumpy ride."

In an instant, the engine roared to life and the van gunned down one of the streets in abandon—with the others being thrown back into their seats in the process. Hamilton then turned on the radio, with a tune blaring through the speakers like wildfire.

**YOU BETTER RUN, YOU BETTER DO WHAT YOU CAN  
DON'T WANNA SEE NO BLOOD, DON'T BE A MACHO MAN...  
YOU WANNA BE TOUGH, BETTER DO WHAT YOU CAN  
SO BEAT IT...**

**BUT YOU WANNA BE BAD...  
**

**JUST BEAT IIIIT…**

**[BEAT IT!]**

**BEAT IIIIT…**

**[BEAT IT!]  
**

**NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED!**

**SHOWIN' HOW FUNKY****  
STRONG IS YOUR FIGHT  
IT DOESN'T MATTER  
WHO'S WRONG OR RIGHT**

**  
JUST BEAT IT...  
**

"Whoa, Tomas," Jonah spoke from the passenger seat. "First Lady Gaga and now _Michael Jackson? Dang,_ you've got some messed-up soundtrack."

"Shut up!"

* * *

Meanwhile, with the Blue Team…

_**YOU **__**EEN**__**-SOLENT, UN**__**GRATE**__**FUL FOOLS! HOW DARE YOU EVEN **__**CONSIDER**__** LEAVING ME HERE FOR EVEN AN **__**EEN-STANT!**_ came the harsh voice of Irina Spasky through the speakers of Vikram Kabra's BlackBerry. Isabel Kabra just chuckled.

"Oh Cousin Irina… it's nothing personal, really. It's just that you were partially responsible for the _ruining of my custom-made Gucci dress_, that's all." Isabel spoke sweetly.

_**My fault?!**__** How am I supposed to be responsible for the rogue bomb in the sewer?! It's your **__**stoo**__**-peed agents' job to plant the cherry bombs! **__**They**__** are the ones responsible!**_

"Nevertheless, Irina," Vikram spoke evilly. "You failed to inform us earlier about the bomb in the first place, considering that _you're_ the only person in the team who has state-of-the-art bomb-finding technology."

_**The device was faulty, Vikram! You should know that! **__**You**__** were the one who gave it to me!**_

As the scene was being played, Cora, Alistair and the Holts were sipping tea comfortably at the backyard of their villa as they played Mahjong. Taking a quick glance at the Lucians, Alistair sighed before taking another sip.

"It seems as if they're at it again. My word," Alistair spoke, looking at Cora Wizard. "It's quite fortunate that we were able to get through the last challenge with those hoodlums. They never _do_ stop fighting, do they?" he continued, placing his tile. Cora shook her head.

"I guess it's a Lucian thing, Mr. Oh. It's probably something the other branches are better off _not_ knowing, for once. Oh, Mary-Todd, it's your turn."

"Thank you, dear." Mary-Todd spoke cheerfully, carefully placing her tile onto the board. "Oh, dear… I guess we'll be a little bit delayed again, won't we?"

"Eh, whatever." Eisenhower spoke, placing his tile. "'S long as we don't have to get involved in their stupid little arguments, everything's fine by me. Your turn, Ekat."

"Aha! Riichi again, Holt. I win the game." Alistair spoke triumphantly.

"D'aww!"

To say the least, it seemed as if the Blue Team would be _quite_ unproductive for a while—that is, until Isabel Kabra finally buys herself a new dress that would replace the old one. And even if their chances of winning would be at stake, the other branches seemed to be perfectly fine with that.

Which, to say, was the _oddest_ thing.

* * *

**Author's note:** Well, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting and procrastination by Dorkus Authorus, _The Great Cahill Race_ has finally seen the light of day. Gah, I've been the worst updater-er ever, haven't I? [Don't deny it.] But, to shine more light to your day, I'm already working on the next chapter, so you guys can expect an update after this one. :) I've got a LOT to make up for... and I thank you guys for putting up with my miserable antics. Actually, I also have YOU guys to thank, since thanks to your words of encouragement, I was able to stand up on my own two feet and gathered the strength to continue this story.

A million thanks to you all. :D


	8. Third Challenge: Saving Reagan

It had been precisely twenty minutes after the other group had left, although it seemed like_ three hours_ to an impatient Ian Kabra. Perhaps it was because he'd been standing in a barren hallway for those bloody minutes, he thought bitterly. And quite unnecessarily too, for that matter.

Five minutes after the other group left, the doctor who was staying at the hotel had passed by the room to see if Sinead Starling's condition had improved. Unfortunately, there seemed to be none. So he invited the four of them to the nearest hospital [which, in fact, _wasn't_ very near] to get a better diagnosis. Off they went to the hospital, and Sinead was checked into one of the rooms to undergo active core rewarming.

Now though, she was recovering from the procedure in her hospital ward where her brothers were currently taking care of her—leaving Ian the position as guard. And, as guard, he was obliged to go _outside_ the room just in case the Blue Team knew they split up. As much as he denounced the decision, he wasn't one who was _patient_ enough to withstand the brothers' constant whining.

"We can't let anything happen to_ Sineaaaaaad_, Ian!" Pfft. Pathetic, that's what they were.

Leaning on one of the white walls [he had gotten sick and tired of standing up for a full twenty minutes], he jerked his head to the side at the sound of a door opening. Ted Starling's head then popped into view, with his eyes having a slight sense of urgency.

"Sinead wants to see you," Ted spoke, widening the doorway. Ned appeared shortly at his brother's side.

"Yep. And she wants to talk to you… _alone_." Ned finished, and the two brothers went outside the doorway. Pointing at the room simultaneously, Ian couldn't help but feel slightly impressed. This sort of sibling synchronization was quite… _intriguing_ to note, to say the least.

But, nevertheless, he rolled his eyes. "Now, what would the little girl want with me?" he spoke boredly, with a hint of arrogance in his tone.

Ted looked slightly uncomfortable. "Ah… erm… we aren't exactly… _sure_…"

Ian sighed. The blokes probably knew _nothing_ about what was going on in their sister's mind. If there was something Ian was sure about, it was that the two were _obviously_ wrapped around their sister's little finger. _I'd be a loon to let that happen with me and Natalie_, he thought repulsively.

"Alright. I'll have a little chat with your sister." Ian said, stepping into the room. The brothers looked at each other briefly in bewilderment, then quickly closed the door in a synchronized manner.

The room was your typical hospital ward, with the whitewashed walls, air conditioning and whatnot. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the ICU device, since Sinead didn't seem to need some tube up her arm to transfer nutrients. Sinead herself was sitting daintily on the white bed, with the bed reclined at a 100 degree angle.

"Hello, Ian." She spoke with a smile, acknowledging his presence. "Glad you came in."

Ian was in no mood to be courteous, and since there was no need to, he didn't even bother to be. "Cut the cajolery. Personally, I have better things to do rather than waste my time on some _inane conversation_, so what you're about to say better be good."

Sinead laughed the hostility off. "Whoa, that's _really_ gonna earn you the impression of a kind-hearted savior."

"Cut to the chase."

She smirked. "Impatient much?"

Getting up from the hospital bed, she walked up to him slowly in an imperceptible manner. "Is it too much for a girl to thank the _sweet_, _bold prince_ for saving her life?" she spoke mockingly, clasping her hands together in a _damsel-in-distress_ act. Ian snorted at the gesture, _clearly_ unimpressed.

"Please, you flatter me."

"Well would you look at that? The _Daddy's Boy_ thinks himself all high and mighty."

"Are you just here to insult me?" Ian retaliated, beginning to be annoyed. "Because if you are, I am _not_ in the least amused by this conversation—moreover if it's coming from an Ekaterina like _you_."

"Typical Kabra attitude," she spoke, with the statement both as an endearment to herself and as a derogatory term to Ian. "Of course, as the heir to the Lucian Empire, you think about nothing but yourself. All arrogant and all-knowing, thinking that _your_ branch is the best and all the others are barbarians…"

"Quiet, you!" Ian snapped, glaring at the girl. "I have no intention of receiving wisecracks from you!"

"Hurts deep, doesn't it?" Sinead continued to mock, walking closer to Ian. She circled him playfully like a vulture circling its next meal. "They always say that the ones that cut deep are the ones that, well, _actually speak the truth_."

"What—how _dare_ you," he retorted, bringing himself to face the girl. "How dare you speak those words to someone of my rank—"

"Oh, I never meant to insult," she spoke, with the sly and imperceptible tone often associated with the Kabras. This tone of voice mildly shocked Ian, which Sinead then took advantage of.

"You see, Ian," she spoke, looking at him straight in the eyes. He couldn't move a muscle. "That impulsiveness, that arrogance—it's like a drug. You know you shouldn't give in, you know that it'll _destroy you in the process_," She punctuated those words with a mock-quotation gesture. "But it's hard to quit. Because every time you give in, it makes you feel powerful. It gives you some sort of identity."

He couldn't believe the words that were coming out from her mouth. She was speaking like a _blue-blooded Lucian_, even if she wasn't. And what was worse was that she was speaking the words that came and went through his mind countless times, as if she could read his mind. The whole event seemed so… _surreal_.

She continued speaking. "But I could understand that. Because that's something we have in common."

He refocused his hearing. What did she say?

Facing him, she took slow steps towards him. "We're impulsive. We're arrogant. We manipulate, we're selfish, we're greedy. That's who we are, and at times it could get lonely knowing that." For a moment there, Ian Kabra actually felt _intimidated_ by this girl.

"But that's what adds up to the allure." She continued, and it seemed to Ian as if her voice had turned… sultry? Seductive? He couldn't tell anymore.

"To know that there's that formidable someone who could compromise your beliefs, your plans—it can get scary. And intimidating." She spoke, just a few inches away from him. He began to notice that she was slightly shorter than him, and at most, she reached up to his lips.

Which, for some unexpected reason, turned inexplicably dry.

"But there's that something at the back of your mind that's attracted by that—to know that you've found your equal, to know that you've _finally met your match_…"

She let her sentence trail off there, bringing herself to look straight into his dark eyes. There was the inevitable silence that couldn't be helped, but even through that silence it seemed as if something else had transpired.

Ian felt something seize him for a moment. There was this irresistible urge to look deeper into those blasted eyes of hers, to lean in closer and do unspeakable things that shamed him just thinking about it. It was like that cursed girl had him in on some… _leash_, like her personal lapdog.

Her face was just a few centimeters from his when there was a knock at the door, which knocked him out of his trance. Smiling, Sinead headed towards the door without hesitation.

"I'll get that," she spoke airily, opening the door. Outside, Ned and Ted were with someone in scrubs holding a food tray.

"Sorry for disturbing you, sissy," spoke Ned. "But this guy here says he has to deliver your food or else he'd throw us out of the ho—"

She beamed her most charming, innocent smile. "No worries. I was done talking to Ian anyway." Then, taking the food tray, she nodded at the delivery boy to dismiss him. "Thank you."

The delivery boy blushed, mumbled something inaudible, and went away.

Looking at Ian, she cast a smile at him—the kind of smile you'd never expect to see on a manipulative, malicious-scheming snake-in-the-grass. "You can go now."

Too stunned to think, he left without saying a word.

As the door closed shut, Ian walked through the barren hallway in thought as he tried to get his emotions straight. He felt, to say the least, _used_—like the auburn-haired witch cast him into a spell that he couldn't get out of. He felt as if she wrapped him around her fingers as she did to her brothers—and almost… _succeeded_.

And she wasn't even a _Lucian_.

Likewise, he found himself in the middle of a busy lobby crowded with nurses and doctors at the end of his walk, to which he made a U-turn retreating to the hallway. He had a feeling that after today's incident, he'd be having dreams of auburn hair and freckles tonight.

Resuming to his place near the wall once more, he identified a sparse feeling of guilt beginning to build in his gut. _Oh, just wonderful. Now, of all times_… he reprimanded himself, hitting the wall with a dull _thud!_ as he leaned against it. But the feeling grew—feebly, at first—until he was able to identify what triggered this feeling of guilt.

It was a memory.

The memory of a person.

Slumping down from his position—he didn't _care_ if his disguise got wrinkled—he understood why this _used_ feeling seemed so familiar. This kind of manipulation, this feeling of deception, this intrusion of emotions… now that the tables have turned, he began to understand another side of the hunt through the eyes of the hunted, the eyes of the one who suffered.

_Amy Cahill_.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sinead lay comfortably on her bed as her brothers argued about which channel they were going to watch. A sly smirk crept secretly upon her face, which seemed unnaturally sinister amidst her deceptively angelic features.

She got him just where she wanted.

* * *

'**CAUSE BABY, **

**THERE AIN'T NO MOUNTAIN HIIIGH ENOOOOUGH…****  
AIN'T NO VALLEY LOOOW ENOUGH…  
AIN'T NO RIVER WIIIDE ENOUGH…**

**TO KEEP ME GETTING TO YOU, BAAABY…**

"Isn't there anything _good_ to listen to?" Dan Cahill whined, slumping limply into his seat.

"Hey! It's not _my_ fault all the radio stations keep playing oldie music," Hamilton retorted, nonchalantly switching through different radio stations for something else to listen to. Unfortunately, the only thing that deviated from the norm was some boring _radio drama_ about doctors.

So far, the other group had found themselves at a busy highway battling traffic, road rage and the sudden increase in temperature caused by a heat wave in the desert. Jonah was currently snoring in his seat throughout the mechanical massacre, Natalie was filing her nails in a manner that would be deemed obsessive-compulsive, and Madison boredly threw a paper ball at the ceiling. With all these circumstances—plus the fact that Reagan hadn't contacted them in thirty minutes—it wasn't a wonder that they'd been slow in progress for the last half-an-hour. Amy flipped through a book she had managed to save during the _real_ clue hunt, which made Dan even _more _bored.

"When's the next time she said she'd call us?" Dan said, as if he wasn't in the mood to speak. Boredom had begun to sink its claws even deeper into him.

"Told me she'd call in twenty minutes," Hamilton replied frankly, looking at the car clock. He sighed. "Aaaaaand… it's been _thirty-two_ minutes. Well. So much for punctuality."

Then, like magic, the BlackBerry came to life.

"Speak of the devil, and the devil will come." Dan spoke smugly, leaning on the back of the driver's seat. Reagan's face then appeared on the screen, scowling like there was no tomorrow.

_**I heard that, twerp.**_

"'Bout time you called!" Madison hollered, sprawling onto her toes before she stomped her way to the front. "We've been waiting for thirty freakin' minutes. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Reagan sighed in irritation. _**Thank you for your **__concern__**, sissy**_. she spoke sarcastically, shortly regaining focus for what she was going to say next. _**Anyway, sorry for the late call, guys. I… uh, well… first and foremost, there's a—er, new twist to the challenge**_.

"And what would _that_ be?" Natalie spoke, clearly uninterested. It looked as if the only thing in her mind right then was that her nails were to be neatly filed.

Reagan looked down the screen anxiously, and it followed the direction of her stare in one blurry motion. In one shot, you could see a large tank filled to the brim with _molten iron_, and in another, Reagan's placement above the tank. She hung helplessly from a cord attached to her harness, with the other end clumsily tied to the railing of the metal pathway overhead the tank. The screen focused on her face again, and it was very much evident that she was clearly unamused.

_**Um, well…**__ this_.

Hamilton nearly hit a bright blue convertible, but luckily, the minivan swerved safely to the right before any damage was done. Everyone's mouths, even Natalie Kabra's, were shaped into a wide round _O_ of shock.

"Oh em gee."

_**Yeaaaaaah,**_ Reagan spoke, rolling her eyelids. _**I'm not exactly in the best of situations**_.

It took a while before the initial shock had passed, and Amy was the first one to recover from it. "H-How did that…?"

_**It's a long story.**_ Reagan spoke, looking quite exasperated. _**But anyway, I got a message for you**_.

The screen then shifted from Reagan's face to the image of some parchment with writing scribbled onto it—something which made Dan groan. He was starting to get sick of these kinds of clues, what with all the riddles and rhymes that sometimes made his head hurt just thinking about them. But even so, he didn't protest.

_Right beside the fragrant harbour is where the little girl hides  
In the land of November blossoms, hidden from prying eyes_

Yet as patient as he tried to be with these sorts of clues, he couldn't help but groan as he read the parchment. "_Greeeat_," he moaned. "_Another_ poem."

The image then disappeared shortly, shifting back to Reagan's face. Although the image had been on the screen for approximately _twenty-five seconds_, drops of sweat flocked her face as if she had been broiled inside an oven for _four hours_. _**As much as I want to help you guys**_, she spoke, looking very, _very_ tired. _**That's all I could give for now. And could you guys hurry up a bit? The heat is killing me!**_

"On it, sissy," said Hamilton, right before Reagan's image disappeared. Just then, Jonah Wizard jolted up from his sleep—with the drool collecting at the side of his mouth spraying all over the passenger's seat. Natalie shrieked at this act, while Amy just cringed in disgust.

"Whu—what just happened?" Jonah said wearily, as if he was still clawing his way out of sleep. "Did someone say my name?"

"No, you _moron_." Madison spoke rudely. "We got an update from Reagan. It's some stupid poem."

For once, Dan agreed with her.

"What did it say again?" Amy spoke, gently closing her book temporarily.

"Here," Hamilton spoke, handing Amy the BlackBerry. "It's saved in phone memory."

_Right beside the fragrant harbour is where the little girl hides_. This momentarily confused Amy for a while, the sort of confusion you got when you first read a complicated textbook or when you try to analyze some opaque elegy. It didn't make any sense to her at first. For instance, how could a harbor be _fragrant?_ And if there _was_ such a thing, where in the world do you find a fragrant harbor?

It was time to do a little research.

"Hamilton," said Amy. "Do you know where the nearest library is?"

He wrinkled his nose in reply. "Not sure. Hey Wizard, could you check if there's a map around this pla—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by the sound of breaking glass—followed by a grappling hook shooting straight for the radio. He almost swerved off-lane at the incident, yet was able to retain his cool as he piloted the car back to its course. A long, sleek cord had been attached to the hook, and it slipped out quickly back through the newly-made hole in the back window. Amy shrieked in shock.

"Now what the _heck_ was that?!" Jonah spoke, looking back at the window. The others followed suit, and before long they spotted the black cab that seemed to be the source of the attack. A man in shades held the grappling gun in his hands as he leaned out the passenger window, with a golden emblem embroidered into his breast pocket.

"It's another one of them Kabra agents!" Jonah exclaimed, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Meanwhile, Hamilton gingerly tried changing the radio channels.

"Aw, man! They took out our radio!" Hamilton lamented, bemoaning the loss of his musical companion.

"Blast it! How on _earth_ do they keep finding us?" Natalie cursed, going through the items in her bag. She shuffled through them hurriedly like a late office worker, right before she held in her hands her diamond BlackBerry. Punching in some numbers, another person's face projected itself onto the screen.

"Hello, my sweet," came the unnervingly sly voice of Isabel Kabra. "You finally saw through the ruse, it seems. You always _were_ a smart girl."

Natalie's face was in a mix of outrage and shock. "You… _bugged my BlackBerry?!_"

Isabel laughed in a way that earned her the title of Kabra. "Actually, we've first considered bugging your _brother's_ BlackBerry to make things _much more easier_—but alas, the fool McIntyre must've put some protective software on it before we could get our hands on it." She then smiled sweetly, the way a mother would smile at her newborn baby. "We just went for the next best thing."

Disorientation flooded Natalie's face like a faulty dam. The woman she had so admired, the woman who had introduced her to the world—_outsmarted_ her. In the most horrid way _ever_.

Then, regaining her focus, she shut off the connection and looked at the blank screen in concentration. Her mother was currently tracking the phone with some sort of GPS bug, and it would take a while before she could _totally_ override the program with some debugging script. The agents would be done with them by that time, and that was _not_ a price she was willing to pay.

So, with a heavy heart, she did the only thing she could do to trash the GPS signal—throw her phone out the window.

_Bye-bye, my darling_, she thought wistfully as the phone underwent a bloody death under the tires of some Volkswagen. Madison looked intrigued.

"Why'd you do that, Princess?" Madison spoke in surprise. Natalie then turned to face the group, with her eyes hardened in all seriousness.

"Mum's been tracking us down ever since the race started. Now that I've gotten rid of the GPS transmitter, we need to disorient their sense of direction in _any way possible_." Natalie spoke curtly. Hamilton got the cue immediately, flooring the pedal at once in response.

"Hang on!"

The van then swerved into a series of alleys, barely escaping the wrath of some killer truck that was in their way. The cab then trailed them with some difficulty, and through the front window you could see their agitation as they looked worriedly at a GPS device. Hamilton drove like a drunk driver as the road turned rocky, and Amy almost hit the front window at the intensity of it all.

"H-Hamilton! Slo-Slow down!"

"Are y'all crazy?" Jonah rebuked her. "If we slow down now, them agents are gonna take us out one by one with them large _hook-thingy!_"

As Jonah ranted, an agent loaded the grappling gun in preparation, with the other agent resting it upon his shoulder. Before long, the gun fired again—hitting the side of the van in a vain attempt. Unfortunately enough, this caused the van to swerve to the left—with its side scratching the concrete wall upon impact. Inside, the van's passengers screamed in panic.

"G-G-Get a map! We-we need to find a w-way to lose them!" Amy stammered, her nervousness reaching its peak. Jonah then raided the front compartment violently, shuffling through various articles of paper before he held out a map of the district.

"Got it! Now…" Jonah said, scanning it with frantic eyes. "Holt, there's an opening at the next corner. Y'all need to get there, or we be _dead_."

"That's very encouraging," Dan spoke dryly, rubbing his newly abused head. Shortly after he did this, he hit his head once more on the window as the van sped up. "Yeow!"

"The dude's loading the gun again!" Madison yelled, looking at the back window. In an instant, the grappling gun fired again—yet this time, it hit the roof of the van on impact. Hamilton floored the pedal more then ever, and the van gunned down the alleyway in a desperate attempt. Relief flooded the others as the agents disappeared from sight, with the last sight of them being that one agent hitting the other over the head with the gun in frustration.

Pulling up into the corner, Jonah barked out some directions that led them to a library _miles_ away from where they left the agents. Scurrying outside the van nervously as they reached their destination, Hamilton pushed the van into some dark, obscure corner and the group hid it with whatever they could find. Then, when the coast was clear, they made a run for the library and quickly picked up the first book they could find.

Hamilton sighed. "Now that the van's trashed, there's _no way_ we can return it to the rent-a-car place. Dad is _so_ gonna kill me."

"Well, 'least we lost 'em." Madison spoke, and the group lowered down the books in relief. Amy, on the other hand, began searching the shelves.

"Whadd'ya doin', girl? We gotta scram before them Lucian Agents catch us again!" Jonah stage-whispered, looking quite panicked. Amy just continued searching the shelves.

"We still need to figure out that clue," Amy replied, running to the _History_ section of the library. The others looked at each other in confusion, then decided to follow suit as they raided the bookshelves. Amy took out a large, worn book and dusted it before she opened it wide.

"_Right beside the fragrant harbour is where the little girl hides. _Do you guys have any idea where we can find a fragrant harbor?" Amy inquired, scanning the book.

"Um… near a sea of perfume?" Dan spoke, grabbing an atlas from one of the mahogany bookshelves. Natalie rolled her eyes.

"_Please_. That's just a load of _rubbish_." She said, gaining a glare from Dan. Looking at Amy, she raised one of her neatly-plucked eyebrows. "Perhaps the fragrant harbor is a reference to some place lined with _incense_ factories? That's quite plausible."

_Incense factories_. Amy thought she had read something about that before.

_Right beside the fragrant harbour is where the little girl hides,  
In the land of November blossoms, hidden from prying eyes._

"Guys, I think I got it!" Amy cried, rushing to another bookshelf. She pried out a medium book from two very large ones, slamming it onto the table in excitement. Although the librarian gave her a strict warning glance, she kept her cool and quickly flipped through the book.

"Does this symbol look familiar to you?" Amy asked, showing the others the symbol on the page. Actually, it wasn't much of a symbol—instead, it was a whole flag of pure red, with a white stylized flower in the middle of it. The others flocked towards the information, yet the group was so densely compacted that Dan needed to wriggle his way through them.

"Of course!" Natalie spoke. "The literal translation of '_Hong Kong_' is '_fragrant harbour_'. Why didn't _I_ think of that?"

"'Cause you were busy minding your nails?" Madison spoke sarcastically, to which Natalie glared at her in retort.

"I was also wondering why _harbor_ was spelled with a '_u_' at first," Amy continued. "Until Natalie said something about '_incense factories_'. I realized that it probably meant the _Aberdeen Harbour_, where incense from the factories lining the north of Kowloon were stored. And look," she spoke, pointing at the blossom in the middle of the flag. "_In the land of November blossoms, hidden from prying eyes. _The _Bauhinia blakeana_ is a flower that blooms from _early November_ to the end of March, and is sometimes called the _Hong Kong orchid._"

"Y'all know what that means," Jonah spoke, with his voice turning eager again. "We best be bookin' ourselves a flight, 'cause we's gonna travel to Hong Kong!"

"But how're we gonna get to the airport?" Hamilton said. "The van's _trashed_, and those agent dudes might be hot-linking every _public transportation_ in the district as we speak!"

The group then fell into a diminished silence, thinking about any possible alternatives to get to their destination. Dan rested his chin on the palm of his hand for a while as he thought, looking out through the glass doors of the library. He caught sight of a man cleaning his black Chevrolet, with the vehicle sparkling spick-and-span in the sunlight. An idea began to hatch in that hare-brained mind of his, and Amy—ever the caring sister—took notice.

"Dan, don't you _dare_…" Amy warned, but it was too late. Dan had already held out a wad of cash, waving it about as he approached the man cleaning the Chevrolet.

"Yo, my man! I got you a proposition!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, here is the much-anticipated sequel to the last chapter. It seems as if Sinead's making her move... I wonder how _this'll_ fare out? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last one. :)


	9. Third Clue: Hong Kong

Amy tried her best not to recall the incidents that had happened after Dan had convinced the guy with the Chevrolet to let the group borrow his car. Preferably _not_ the one involving crash cones, traffic enforcers and an old lady walking her dog. That incident with the monks in Austria was _nothing_ compared to that kind of chaos.

Nevertheless, she tried to calm her nerves down with a nice hot cup of Chinese tea, to which the Chinese stewardess served her with utmost zeal. Echoes of "_Chinese tea? Do you want some Chinese tea?_" were heard across the aisle, with that clipped English accent sounding eager as usual.

She was just _glad_ that they were finally on the plane en route to Hong Kong, after all the past misgivings, that is. Since they were late in making their reservations, they had to book a flight the day _after_ since all the other flights were fully booked. Another complication came when the Kabra agents entered the airport, but luckily, the group was able to hide themselves behind some mothers who were boasting about who was the better baby. Yes, Amy was _quite_ grateful once she entered the plane.

"Refill?" came a curt yet polite inquiry beside her. The Chinese stewardess had rolled her cart up to her row for the second time, and her face seemed stoic yet friendly. Amy smiled, holding up her plastic cup.

"Thank you," she replied, and another aromatic cup of Jasmine tea was poured into the cup. The woman then rolled the cart to the other passengers in the Economy class, asking each and every one of them individually if they desired a refill. Cuddling into the complimentary blanket she was given, Amy looked out the window with a wistful glance.

_Nineteen hours_. She'd been wondering if they'd still have enough time to save Reagan from her captor within the time frame, especially since the flight to Hong Kong would take _nineteen hours_. Perhaps it was her paranoia that was getting to her again, but the doubt that'd been building up within her while waiting for the flight was beginning to manifest itself— something she found quite uncomfortable. What if they wouldn't be able to rescue her on time? What would they do to Reagan if they failed? She'd never felt such concern for someone of the former enemy team, yet there was this deathly tight feeling in her chest just thinking about what _could_ happen if they failed to retrieve her.

Worse, this fear hadn't allowed her to get a good night's sleep. It kept playing on her nerves like a specter, haunting her with the circumstances yet-to-come. She'd kept awake for the whole duration of the flight just worrying about Reagan, as if the girl was the long-lost-sister she never had. Perhaps this was the aftermath of sticking to her old enemies for a long period of time? She couldn't quite tell.

"_Nooooo,_" Dan mumbled beside her. "My Mickey Mantle rookie card… I just _got_ thaaaat…"

Amy sighed, yet a small smile played on her lips. For the past hours, Dan had been mumbling something in his sleep about some weird dream of his. Like that little dream with Arnold he had five minutes ago, in which he mentioned something about being dressed as a T-bone steak. Or that other dream with Natalie, in which he mumbled something about his "_legs being reduced to stumps_" during some outrageous shopping raid. Nevertheless, these little fragments were _quite_ amusing, to say the least.

The speakers then crackled to life with some witty tune, right before the pilot's announcement.** We will be arriving soon in Hong Kong. Please fasten your seatbelts.**

Through the mist, Amy could see some specks of light overhead. She then felt a slow decline in altitude, right before she got a better glimpse of the Hong Kong airport. The runway seemed to be right-smack in the middle of the ocean, as if some parts of it were submerged into the deep waters. _That's because it's built on reclaimed land_, she reminded herself, recalling an article about the country she had read earlier at the airport.

Lower and lower did the plane go, and Amy became all the more amazed at the glamour of the city lights. She didn't even mind the rough landing or the fact that Dan's slobber spilled all over the back of the seat in front of them.

"SUPER NINJA MONKEYS!" he blurted out as he awoke, presumably after another strange dream of his. Amy rolled her eyes. So much for enjoying the view.

"Yes, dweebo," she spoke in dry sarcasm. "We're _here_. In _Hong Kong_."

Dan shot her a nasty glare. "I know _that!_"

The speakers then crackled to life once more, with a woman's mechanical voice speaking the announcement in three languages. **We have arrived safely at the airport**, came the voice. **Thank you for flying with the Hong Kong Express**.

"C'mon Dan," she urged him, and they found themselves an opening in the crowded aisle. Five rows behind were Hamilton and Madison [both who seemed rested], and at the left aisle came Jonah and Natalie. Natalie pulled off her silk sleeping mask with a flourish, gracefully stretching her arms as she yawned lazily.

"It may not be as glamorous as a private jet, but nevertheless, I was able to get a good night's sleep." she spoke with a smile, to which Jonah countered with a sunken glare.

"Well, _Princess_, while you's been sleeping like a log, I felt _harassed_." Jonah spoke in irritation. "I mean, what kind of _normal_ eleven-year-old threatens an older person with _poison darts_ during a flight?!"

"Tut-tut-tut, dear cousin," Natalie spoke sweetly. "_That_ is where you are wrong. My rank is higher than any _normal_ eleven-year-old."

"_Nah, nah, nah, my-rank-is-higher-hooey…_" Jonah mocked, to which Natalie countered with an icy glare.

"What was _that_, Wizard?"

"Nothing!"

Filing out the plane, they were greeted by a shuttle waiting to transport them to the terminal. After passing through Immigration, the group then hailed a taxi and paid it to take them to their hotel, to which it did so accordingly without question.

Looking out the window, Dan let his mouth drop at the scenery. Although the day seemed quite foggy, she could still make out the large, majestic cranes of Victoria Harbour which lifted stacks of overseas exports like a giant's hand. The large ships sailing towards the bay seemed like gliding parade floats upon the glassy water, and the lights from the city illuminated the night like a festival. Further ahead, she could make out the silhouettes of tall residential buildings which housed many of the city's residents—looking foreboding and ominous in the blackening sky. He felt as if she were transported into another dimension.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if he'd have to save sight-seeing for later, since they had already arrived at the hotel. Yet even so, it seemed as if the fun was just beginning.

"Um… Jonah?" Amy said. "Don't you think this is a little… _too_ much?"

"Re-laaax, cuz," Jonah spoke casually. "Y'all don't need to throw a fit just 'cause the place we're staying has a lot of added…uh, _assets_. Besides," he continued with a smile. "I'm in charge of all them services, since I'm _such_ a good person."

Madison mock-gagged at the statement, garnering a stony look from Jonah.

"Yeah, like you're so _peachy_ yourself. So anyway," Jonah spoke, gesturing at the large lobby. "Guys, welcome to the _Harbour__ Plaza__ Metropolis!_"

Dan barely contained a gasp as he looked around the lobby. It wasn't just_ large_, to say the least—it was _gynormous_. Two pillars seemed to support the ceiling, with tourists and residents alike scattered all around the lobby. On the right side, there was a grand marble staircase with bronze railings leading to the Plaza—and on the left side, there was another group of pillars accompanying a tall doorway; with two large purple drapes hanging from them. This was the entrance to the Promenade restaurant, where the residents of the hotel ate every breakfast. Spotting a display of mouth-watering cakes near the entrance of the Promenade, Dan instinctively headed towards it, drooling.

"Don't you dare," Amy warned, grabbing Dan by the earlobe.

"Aw, man!"

"Yes, my man. We've made reservations for four queen-sized bed bedrooms. Uh-huh. _Suuure_, no problem, homes. Alright. Thanks." Jonah spoke, handing the concierge the required documents. Holding up four keys proudly, he handed the two of them to Dan and Hamilton, and the other one to Natalie. "Well, we'll all be on the same floor, so if y'all think y'all bein' watched by one of them Lucian agents again, just give us a holler an' we'll be right there before y'all can say—"

"We get the point, Wizard," Natalie spoke impatiently. "Now if you don't want a fifteen-inch syringe through your _buttocks_, I suggest we hurry to our rooms before I get very, _very_ impatient."

"Whoa, whoa… _touchy_ much?" Jonah spoke, making a cautious gesture as they entered the elevator. A soothing concerto played as they rose up, with the sight of an indoor garden greeting their senses. Dan had a feeling he was going to enjoy the place. A _lot_.

"We'll contact you guys if Reagan called again," Hamilton said, turning on the BlackBerry. "Well, _if_ she calls again, that is."

"Hopefully she doesn't _freak out_ at the last minute," Madison mused, trying to conceal the growing worry within her. It wasn't in her reputation to care for her sister, but that didn't mean she never _did_.

The elevator then stopped with a sharp _Ding! _as they reached their floor, and the others filed out to search for their rooms. But before they were able to do so, the BlackBerry glowed to life with the image of Reagan—voice choppy through the static, and white noise obstructing most of her image.

**_Not… supposed to contact… hacked through… database…_** she spoke, with her eyes gleaming in worry. The others hoarded around the BlackBerry instantly. **_Time… running out… use… Stargate… AAAAAH!!!_**

The pitch of the yell was enough to make everyone's hairs stand on end. Before the image blurred into nothingness, the last thing they saw was a cape of pure black sweeping over the girl's terrified face. Hamilton almost let go of the BlackBerry, and the whole group fell into a morbid silence.

"He has her," Dan spoke up quietly. "_Him_. Of all people."

The minutes wore on slowly.

"All the more reason to retrieve her," Amy said nervously. "But what's Stargate?"

Hamilton and Madison were both in a state of shock after the last transmission, evident by Hamilton's failure to conjure up a reply and Madison's sunken expression. Perhaps if one were able to enter their minds at that time, one might be shocked at such dramatic despair that had possessed them at the moment.

After some minutes, Hamilton sighed and spoke up. "She wants to use the Stargate. That… is _so_ not good." he said as he turned to Madison.

"Hey, why're you talking to _me?_" Madison spoke in annoyance. "_You're_ the one who teaches her those nerdy computer tricks!"

"_Nerdy?!_ Hey, may I remind you that hacking computers is serious busi—"

Natalie rubbed her temples slowly to drown out the idiocy of the conversation, right before she interrupted their petty argument. "If the both of you don't desire a _slow_ and _painful_ death, would you mind explaining to us what this 'Stargate' is?"

The tactic seemed to have worked, since the two Holts abruptly ended their little quarrel afterwards. Madison was the first to speak up.

"It's just some stupid computer program Ham made," Madison remarked, rolling her eyes. "S'pposed to be some kind of tracking bug, but it's just experimental. Moral of the story? Never leave your older brother and younger sister in front of Dad's laptop."

"Hey!" Hamilton rebuked, giving Madison a punch in the arm.

"Tracking bug? You've gotta be kidding me!" Dan spoke, wide-eyed in shock. "The _dolt_ knows how to hack?!"

"Is it in the job prescription for eleven-year-olds to be really annoying?" Hamilton whined.

"Elementary, dear Holt," Natalie spoke, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "It is in our job prescription to make your lives unbearably miserable until you've gotten used to it."

"I feel your pain." Amy and Jonah spoke in chorus, looking at Hamilton. Upon realizing this, they looked at each other weirdly, then went back to watching the scene playing out before them.

"Anyway," Hamilton spoke with a sigh. He slipped the keycard into the slot casually before he turned the knob. "Booting up the program's gonna take a while, probably three to four hours. It's a complicated program, and that's why it's only used during emergencies."

"So I guess we'll have to get some rest first," Amy said. "I have a feeling we'll be needing a _lot_ of it. We can't retrieve her if we're practically brain-dead and sleepy. Knowing the Man in Black…" she trailed off at that moment, not wanting to think disturbing thoughts. It was torture enough to know that they might be heading him off.

Madison then yawned, heading towards the bed. "Whatever. Let's get some sleep. The stupid flight attendant kept waking me up." With that, she belly flopped onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.

Natalie slipped the keycard into the slot. "As much of a barbarian she is, I agree with the idiot," she spoke, turning the knob and slipping on her night mask. "I do believe I'll go get some beauty rest. Toodles."

The two older boys agreed with the prospect of sleep and went their own separate ways, leaving Dan and Amy alone in the hallway. The two siblings looked at each other momentarily, right before Amy sighed and reached for the door.

"Well, I guess we'll have to go then," she spoke, inserting the keycard and turning the knob. "C'mon, Dan."

Yet Dan seemed to be glued to his place, with his thoughts high up in the clouds. He seemed to be as contemplative as a monk, which, to say, was a _first_ for Dan Cahill. "Hey, Amy?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, quite surprised at her brother's reaction.

"Do you think… we'll be able to make it in time? It's not that I'm worried about her or anything, it's just… it's HIM, Amy. _Him_. The guy who tried to _kill_ us. I don't… like thinking about what he could do," Dan confessed, trying to make his expression as blank as possible. A cold shiver went down Amy's spine at the mention of the Man in Black. She didn't like thinking about it too.

"Dan," she spoke reassuringly, putting a soft hand on his shoulder. "Everything's gonna be alright, okay? Look, when we wake up, Hamilton's going to boot up the program first thing in the morning. When we find her location, we're going to go there and rescue her. And if we see the Man in Black, we'll outnumber him with our strength. Everything will be _okay_," she continued, smiling a bit to help him relax. But for some reason, there seemed to be a cold cave at the back of her mind that seemed to reach out and play upon her fears.

"He won't hurt her," she spoke with a tone of finality, doing her best to conceal the fact that she had doubted the very words she said.

* * *

The next day was to be a busy one, considering what little time they had to retrieve Reagan.

The first thing in the morning, Hamilton was to skip the free breakfast to start booting up the Stargate; to which his only command was that they'd sneak in at least fifteen of the free Danishes for him. This was to ensure that everyone was able to eat breakfast without eating time, with enough energy to face the Man in Black.

After breakfast, Amy and Dan were to go about the hotel and ask casually about the city, in order to plan a virtual escape route lest things go wrong. Jonah and Natalie, on the other hand, were to use their intuition and know-how to learn more about the buildings and locations that could possibly be Reagan's hiding place. After four hours, the group would meet at the Holts' hotel room under the guise of a joyful family affair—when it fact, they'd be crowding about the BlackBerry to see the coordinates of Reagan's hiding place. There, Jonah and Natalie would use their information to navigate the group towards the exact location to where she was being held hostage, ultimately leading them somewhere in Tsim Sha Tsui.

Unfortunately for them, though, they were led to some tall building after going through with the plan. Even worse, the building was locked and Reagan seemed to be held hostage at the _top_ of it. Natalie scowled as she looked at the BlackBerry, to which the virtual skeleton of the building was shown via Stargate.

"According to this silly computer program of yours, all possible entrances are _closed_," she spoke with a pout. "And the only way to get to the top would be that stupid little window about, shall we say, _five stories up_."

"I have a rope," Dan offered, pulling out a sturdy-looking rope from his knapsack. Madison eyed it enviously.

"Where the heck did _you_ get that?"

Natalie looked at the rope, clearly unimpressed. "Do you really think that excuse for a rope would get us anywhere? In order to get to that window, we need at least a sturdy grappling hook gun with at least 500 miles per minute releasing power!"

"Or maybe," Hamilton mumbled, a smile slowly creeping up to his lips. "Some sweet moves."

Jonah eyed Hamilton suspiciously. "Oh, great… Don't I know _that_ look. Holt, what crazy scheme's brewing in that whacked-up head of yours?"

Madison smirked. "'Guess some things are better done off the Tomas way."

Hamilton snatched the other end of the rope and tied it around his wrist, throwing Madison the other end. Madison then wound it around her hand to tighten her grip, and before the group could protest, Hamilton made a running start and jumped onto a wall like Spiderman. Amy's jaw dropped in a mixture of concern, terror and confusion.

"_What the heck do you think you're doing?!_" she shrieked, too stunned to stutter. Hamilton resumed to jumping to the other building, grabbing the ledge with a swift movement.

"Don't be such a sissy about it," Madison said. "Ham knows parkour. He's used to this."

Clutching the ledge sharply, Hamilton jumped to another ledge of the building, doing a flip as he did so. He then jumped from ledge to ledge in a zigzag without breaking a sweat, as if in a past life he'd been an acrobat performing center-stage in front of a roaring audience. Making a pose like Spiderman's as he squatted on a wall, he jumped and grabbed the ledge of the window in one quick movement. Everyone's mouths were wide open in shock, excluding Madison, who was at the moment working the ropes.

"Climb up!" he hollered, tying the other end of the rope to a nearby window grating. The others hesitated for a while to recover from the shock, until Madison persuaded them with threats of greater harm. Amy closed her eyes shut as she climbed the rope in restraint, trying to push away thoughts of falling from scary, _scary_ heights.

When the others had already entered the window, they were greeted by a long hallway that seemed to spiral down. They looked at each other quizzically, then resumed to creeping along the corridors to avoid tripping off any booby traps that may have laid in wait for them. All this was going quite smoothly, that is, until they heard a shriek that broke octaves.

"REAGAN!" they all yelled, with panic flooding the group. All thoughts of triggering booby traps had gone down the drain as they ran down the hallway, following the yell. This led them to an old, rusty door which seemed to be there for millennia, and this was rammed down by the group in agitation.

Neither one of them was prepared for the sight they saw ahead of them.

Yes, there was the large tank of molten iron, but at the base of the tank were two people playing chess casually. The shorter one of the two had both feet up on the chair as if a rat had crawled under the table, while the taller one just sat daintily as it prepared to move the bishop in mid-air. The group was stunned.

"Reagan?"

"Oh, hey guys," Reagan spoke with a sheepish smile. "Heh, bet you heard the scream. I—I could explain that!"

The Man in Black, Reagan's opponent, chuckled in a raspy voice. "It seems as if the little girl has a thing against rodents. Whoopsie, dear! It seems I have you at check."

"No way!" Reagan spoke astonished, putting her feet back onto the floor. Knitting her eyebrows, she rested her chin on her palm as she planned her next move, ultimately moving her pawn. The Man in Black chuckled again.

"Then you've given my queen access to your king, my dear. I'm afraid you're at a checkmate."

"Double no way!" Reagan spoke, burying her face into her hands in embarrassment. "That's the _fifth_ time I lost!"

"Now, there's no need to be harsh on yourself, deary. You just need more practice. Look! This time around, you've eaten most of my royals. Your chess skills are improving."

Reagan sighed, putting her hands down. "Well, I _suppose_."

Dan was the first to recover from shock, yet disbelief still stormed his head. There they were worrying about the girl's safety—even going through Kabra agents, long flights and lack of sleep—yet here was Reagan, safe and sound playing _chess_ with the enemy. The equation did not compute.

"There's no time to be playing _chess!_" he yelled, stomping towards the two. He decided that with all the emotions he was feeling, he was going to be mad at the Man in Black. He thought that it was the most logical thing to feel, well, out of all the other emotions he was feeling right then—considering that this man had been _following their every step and trying to kill them ever since the race began_. His eyes were then fixed on the man, filled with immense anger.

"And _you_," he hissed. "When will _you_ ever leave me and Amy _alone!_"

He then charged towards the man with hands ready to strangle him, yet was surprised when Reagan blocked his way without hesitation. Her eyes sparked with an ornery determination that he couldn't understand. "I won't let you hurt him."

No one in the room was prepared for such a statement. "Reagan, what the heck are you doing?!" came Madison's angry voice. "Are you _that_ stupid?"

A twinge of remorse welled inside Dan. "Are you _kidding_ me?! I can't believe you're… _helping_ some guy who just kidnapped you! Are you _insane?!_"

But Reagan remained unmoved. "You don't know what's at stake here," she spoke firmly. "You should be _glad_ I'm here protecting him."

"People who protect the enemy are called _traitors_, if you didn't know!"

"G-Guys, stop it!" Amy yelled, feeling disturbed at the argument. Although she never felt discomfort when she and Dan fought, the fact that Dan was beginning to bring up sensitive issues bugged her a bit. "Sto-stop fighting!"

Silently, the Man in Black then stood up, dusted his suit then walked slowly towards the quarreling youngsters. "Dan and Amy Cahill?" he spoke softly, his gaze going from Amy to Dan. The two then momentarily stopped arguing, silenced by the man's charms.

"I'm so glad to finally see you face to face," the man continued, removing his hat to reveal graying hair. Looking at his eyes, Amy noticed that they had a slight… _familiarity_ with Grace, both physically and in content. Reagan then silently went to the man's side without making any further remarks, and Amy strode forward to meet him. A million questions invaded her mind.

"Who… _are_ you?" she muttered softly.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day that I'd finally talk to the both of you," the man spoke, wiping a forming tear in his eye. "I'm Grace's brother. My name is Fiske Cahill."

* * *

**Author's note:** And finally after weeks of being delayed, here's the next update to TGCR! Haha, I guess I won't be able to continue with my one-shot idea, but who knows. Anyway, sorry for the delay, but hopefully this chapter was enough to satisfy your needs. :)

Oh, and for those who've been asking if there'll be a pairing in the story, yes, there will be. You'll just have to wait and see. :)


End file.
